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Ledger Library. 
™E '> No. 3, 

Breach of Custom 

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN 


By Mrs. D. M. Lowrey. 



I 


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THE 


NEW YORK LEDGER. 


The Illustrated National Family 
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A Great Quantity and Variety of Reading. 

T HE enlarged size of the Ledger in its new form enables the 
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Oliver Dyer, 

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Gen. Jas. S. ] 


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THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 



































































. 

1 • 

- ‘ s* i 







BREACH OF CUSTOM. 

A 


A NOVEL 


TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN 



BY 

* 

Mrs. D. M. Lowrey. 

1 • 


WITH CHOICE ILLUSTRATIONS BY O. W. SIMONS. 



NEW YORK: 

ROBERT BONNER'S SONS 



PUBLISHERS. 


THE LEDGER LIBRARY I ISSUED SEMI-MONTHLY. SUBSCRIPTION PRICE, TWELVE DOLLARS PER ANNUM. NO. M 
MARCH 1, 1891. ENTERED AT THE NEW YORK, N. Y., POST OFFICE AS SECOND CLASS MAIL MATTER. 



COPYRIGHT, 1891, 

BY ROBERT BONNER’S SONS. 


(All rights reserved .) 


PRESS OF 

THE NEW YORK LEDGER, 
NEW YORK. 


THE 


BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


i 


CHAPTER I. 


v 

E oldest inhabitants of the city could 
not remember that the summer festi- 
val of the Artists' Union had ever 
been marred by rain ; and the un- 
shaken tradition of “painter’s 
weather” was not disturbed this 
year. A cloudless blue sky arched 
above the lovely rolling country ; the 
soft breeze scarcely moved a leaf, and 
the July sun shone steadily and hot 
in the firmament. The picturesque ruins of the old 
fortress on the Rauhenstein had this year been selected 
as the central point for the festivities, and the quiet 
park by which it was surrounded had been vocal since 
early morning with cries expressive of the joy and hap- 
piness with which many youthful hearts were over- 
flowing. 



8 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


Not without reason did the old South German capital 
enjoy the reputation of being the most hospitable of 
German cities. For weeks the town had talked of 
nothing else but the approaching festival, and on this 
morning happy groups attired in their Sunday best 
were hastening from all directions to the forest of the 
Rauhenstein. There was indeed enough upon which to 
gaze and at which to be astonished ; glittering pro- 
cessions with their gorgeous colorings, showy tourna- 
ments after the fashion of the middle ages, merry stroll- 
ing singers, emulating one another, and a hundred 
amusing antics from picturesque ragged gypsies, those 
weird, wild children of nature. There was no lack of 
sparkling wine and foaming beer, and as the day 
advanced the hilarity of the invited guests and the 
uninvited spectators seemed to rise higher each hour. 

Near the edge of the plateau upon which the gypsies 
had pitched their tents, stood a tall, elegant looking 
man in the uniform of an officer of dragoons. His 
attention seemed less attracted by the mad antics of the 
brown tribe near which he stood, than by a small com- 
pany of spectators who sat around a rough, wooden 
table under the shade of a large linden tree, at a short 
distance from him. There must have been something 
especially absorbing in the picture, for he turned round 
half startled, as a friendly hand fell with no light touch 
on his shoulder. 

“Are you lost in a poetic dream, dear Hardenegg ?” 
sounded the sonorous voice of a blonde, bearded rider, 
who wore the embroidered doublet and carried the 
feathered hat of a herald, “or is the gray spectre of 
weariness hovering in your wake ?” 

The officer shook his head laughing. “ No, I find 
myself very well entertained. But tell me, Bruning, are 
you not on the committee of arrangements ?” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


9 


“ Certainly I am ! Have you any complaint to make 
to them ?” 

“A very serious one, although I, as a guest, have no 
business to criticise ; but then we are old comrades. 
Tell me in confidence where were your eyes when you 
made this selection of princesses and noble dames for 
your mumming ?” 

Where were our eyes ? Well now, I think there was 
no lack of beautiful faces.” 

All honor to your taste, you disciple of the great 
Phidias ; but the most beautiful which I have seen 
have not been among the participants, but among the 
lookers-on.” 

*' I am indeed greatly surprised, yet you had the name 
in the regiment, in my time, of being a connoisseur. 
Perhaps I can learn something from you.” 

“Won’t you be good enough to show me the object of 
your admiration ?” 

“ Look over yonder, Briining ! That old man with a 
lion’s mane under the linden yonder, is guarding them. 
They resemble one another but little, and yet they 
appear to be sisters.” 

The eyes of the blonde sculptor followed the direction 
indicated by his friend, and his bright face grew 
earnest. “You are right,” he answered, “they are 
undoubtedly very beautiful faces, although the younger 
is but a child yet. But we should have asked in vain 
for any assistance from them.” 

“ Are they so aristocratic ? I should have judged 
otherwise from appearances.” 

“ It is not their rank which restrains the father and 
his daughters from taking an active part in the festivi- 
ties. They have other reasons for wishing to lead a 
quiet and retired life.” 


10 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ Ah ! I understand, too poor ! Is the father an 
artist ? He looks likes one !” 

“ Yes. Have you ever heard of the historical painter, 
Balthasar Stiller?” 

“ I am ashamed to confess, I never have. Is the man 
celebrated ?” 

Briining laughed significantly. “ That is as you take 
it. Every one knows him here ; as a painter and as a 
man, he is eccentric. He lives only for his art, for what 
he calls his ideal, and the only misfortune is that he can- 
not live by his ideal. His talent is great enough for 
him to create a position for himself in the world of art, 
but he has a firm conviction that he was born to be a 
reformer. When he was a young man he created some- 
thing of a sensation by painting a saintly picture after 
the manner of Raphael, and since then no misfortune or 
disappointment can-move him to abandon that school.” 

“ He seems altogether a singular person. But if he 
cannot find purchasers for his pictures how can he live 
and support a family?” 

“ That is the secret. Or we are to treat it as such. 
He draws for some of the illustrated papers, and his 
daughter Elfriede — ” 

“ Elfriede ? Is that the young lady with the magnifi- 
cent hair, which shines like spun gold in the sun ?” 

The sculptor threw a searching side glance towards 
his enthusiastic friend. 

“Yes,” he said, slowly. “That is she. You have 
apparently studied her closely already !” 

“ Is that a crime ?” asked the officer, with a good- 
humored laugh. “Where shall we go to admire the 
beautiful if not to an artists’ festival ? But I interrupted 
you, what about the golden-haired Elfriede? Does she 
paint, too ? or perhaps she is a writer of romance !” 

“ Neither the one nor the other. But she is the good 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


11 


angel of the family. I heard that her mother died when 
she was fifteen years old, and since that time all the 
care and responsibility of the little household have 
devolved on her tender shoulders. And that means 
much when we consider the small income which her 
father earns. She must indeed be mistress of all house- 
hold arts, for I know no pleasanter home in the whole 
city.” 

“ Singular, isn’t it ? She certainly doesn’t look like a 
little house-wife. There seems to me a great deal of 
pride and nobility in her appearance. Are you acquainted 
with the family ?” 

“ Slightly. I have had some little intercourse with 
my fellow artist.” 

“ Will you be good enough to present me to them ? I 
hear the music beginning for a little dance in the 
meadow back of us, and I should like to invite one of 
the young ladies to dance with me.” 

Briining hesitated. His friend’s request was little to 
his taste, but Hardenegg was his guest and would have 
some ground for resentment if he refused so seemingly 
trifling a service. 

The two men turned towards the little table, and 
when their approach was observed by the little party 
there was a movement of evident surprise. 

“ Permit me to present to you my friend, Lieutenant 
Baron von Hardenegg,” said the sculptor, turning 
towards an earnest looking old man, with flowing white 
hair. “ The historical painter, Herr Stiller, and his 
family.” 

“ Very pleased,” murmured the wrinkled old man in 
a deep tone which sounded anything but encouraging, 
and then as if his duty to politeness demanded it, he 
turned to his children and named them. “ My daugh- 
ters, Elfriede and Marguerite — my son Ewald. We 


12 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


should be rejoiced to have your company, gentlemen, 
but we are on the point of leaving.” 

And as if in corroboration of his words he caught his 
broad brimmed hat which lay on the bench beside him. 

“ Going ?” asked Hardenegg, seemingly resolved not 
to be rebuffed by the unfriendly reception. “ I suppose 
you are off for a little walk. I see by the programme 
that the refreshment tables in the court will be ready in 
fifteen minutes.” 

Balthasar Stiller looked almost savagely at the speaker. 

“ Refreshments ? What do we care for them ? It is a 
great pleasure to have a bottle of Moselle set before you 
and hear the champagne corks popping in every direction 
around you. The father of a family cannot throw his 
money around like you young people. Come, children, 
I know a little inn above here, where we can satisfy our 
hunger, without encountering the pitying glances of my 
honored colleagues.” 

The Lieutenant turned towards Elfriede and said, with 
a polite bow : 

“ Pardon me, but perhaps you will have the goodness 
to give me one dance before you go ; the gypsy band is 
playing on the meadow behind the castle. The music 
and the place are both romantic enough to induce one 
to try the experiment — ” 

A slight flush rose to the face of the beautiful girl, as 
her blue eyes met the admiring glance of the young 
officer, but her answer betrayed neither embarrassment 
nor diffidence. 

“I never dance, Lieutenant, and even if I did, I could 
not possibly keep my father waiting for me.” 

She bowed graciously, and laid her hand upon her 
father’s arm. Hardenegg pressed his lips together. 
This second rebuff affected him much more unpleas- 
antly than the first. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


13 


With a bow he stepped back silently from the table. 

Elfriede did not look up as she passed by him with her 
father. But her younger sister, a slight girl scarcely six- 
teen years of age, flashed upon him from her roguish 
looking eyes a glance of intelligence, which contained a 
silent invitation he did not understand. He looked 
after the little family, the last of whom was the son 
Ewald — a tall, well-built lad of about seventeen, with 
dark, curly hair — until they had all disappeared behind 
the shrubs and trees ; then he turned with an impatient 
motion towards his friend. 

“A wonderfully amiable man, this historical painter; 
and he evidently rules his daughters with an iron hand.” 

Briining gave a significant laugh, and as they walked 
away together, began to banter Hardenegg in his good- 
natured fashion : 

“ I have never introduced any one to them until now, 
yet I could have told you beforehand the result of our 
advances. Balthasar Stiller has an irrational pride, and 
he regards all new acquaintances with distrust. You 
will do well, my friend, to look for a more approachable 
divinity to whom to offer your homage.” 

Hardenegg made no answer, and did not again revert 
to the Stiller family while in his friend’s company. But 
at the jolly artists’ table he sat in his place, quiet and 
reserved. While the merriment of those around him 
rose higher and higher, he remained silent and lost in 
thought, giving only careless and irrelevant answers to 
questions which were occasionally put to him by friends 
on his right and left. When the meal came to an end, 
he slipped away quietly from the castle, evidently pre- 
ferring to join the crowd who were gazing on the 
dancers, to mixing with his carousing acquaintances. 
He walked alone for some time among the ruins, with 
an air of determination in his step and bearing, watch- 


14 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


ing the direction taken by the Stiller family several hours 
before. 

The glorious summer day was drawing to a close, and 
the setting sun flecked the heavens with streaks of red. 

Already many were turning their faces towards their 
homes in the city, and with a low sigh Hardenegg gave 
up the hope of coming across the painter’s family again 
on that day. Suddenly he heard his name called from 
behind, in a low, clear-toned voice. He turned around 
and was astonished to see that the call had come from 
Elfriede’s pretty, brown-eyed sister. Her cheeks were 
flushed as from a swift run, and her happy face wore an 
expression of charming confusion. 

“You, Fraulein Stiller?” asked the Lieutenant. “ Has 
an accident befallen any of you ?” 

Marguerite laughed, and her eyes sparkled. 

“ Oh, no ! They will soon be here ! I only ran on 
ahead, because — because — ” 

“ Well, because — ?” 

“ Oh, you will think I am very childish, and very 
indecorous ! Do you know where I can find Herr 
Briining ?” 

“ I am sorry to say that I cannot tell you. But per- 
haps I can serve you in his stead. Will you not make 
me happy with your confidence ?” 

“Yes, I will, for except Herr Briining you are my 
only acquaintance here and I do so want to dance — just 
once !” 

“And do you believe I would resign that pleasure to 
my friend ? Take my arm, Fraulein ; I value the 
chance that has thrown me in your way.” 

With innocent confidence she accepted his invitation, 
and went by his side to the dancing place. Her beauti- 
ful face was lighted up with pleasure, as Hardenegg 
laid his arm around her waist, and her small feet began 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


15 


keeping time to the inspiring rhythm of the gypsy 
music. Surely she had never before been led to dance 
by so elegant a cavalier ; her breath came quickly and 
she wished that this dance might last for hours. It 
seemed as if the Lieutenant had read the wish in her 
eye. No other couple danced so long as they, and it 
was only when the last notes of the music were sound- 
ing that he led her breathless to a seat. 

“ Ah, that was delicious, I thank you, Lieutenant,” she 
whispered. “ But I feel quite exhausted, everything is 
going around before my eyes.” 

“A glass of lemonade will make you feel better. 
Excuse me for a moment and I will go and bring you 
one.” 

He pushed his way hastily through the crowd, but it 
was several minutes before he was able to return with 
the cooling drink. 

But Marguerite was not alone now. Elfriede was 
standing by her side, and to judge from the younger 
sister’s dejected appearance, had been reproving her 
severely. Hardenegg felt it his duty to shield his little 
partner from blame. He bowed politely to Elfriede 
and said : “ I have to apologize for carrying off your 
sister for a little while. You see, I have returned your 
treasure to you well and sound, my dear Fraulein.” 

“Marguerite did very wrong to leave us ; she knew 
that we would be anxious as soon as we missed 
her.” 

The offender pursed her lips into a pout. 

“ Dear me ; I am not a child ! And I have never 
heard that it was a sin to dance.” 

There was something very fascinating to Hardenegg 
in Elfriede’s unapproachableness. Her austere manner 
prompted him to answer in a haughty tone. 

“It is not indeed, my child,” he said, “and I trust 


16 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


your severe preceptress will afford additional proof of 
what I say by giving me the next dance.*' 

“ I have already told you, Herr von Hardenegg, that 
I find no pleasure in it, and — ” 

“ And you did not wish to keep your father waiting,” 
he replied, unmindful of her reproachful glance, and in 
rather a sneering tone. “ I well see, that to-day it is 
my fate to encounter refusals. But you ladies will 
at least suffer me to accompany you back to Herr Stil- 
ler.” 

Elfriede turned abruptly and went on ahead quickly, 
without deigning to answer, but Hardenegg gave his 
arm to Marguerite, who looked up to him thankfully, 
and whispered : “ When my father chides me, you will 
say a good word for me, will you not ? And you must 
not think ill of my sister ; she is an angel, and a hundred 
times better than I ? I cannot understand why she 
treats you so cavalierly.” 

They turned aside towards the spot where a great 
crowd of carriages were standing. There stood the 
gray-haired painter in lively dispute with the driver of 
one of the most miserable and shabby looking of 
vehicles. 

“It is all nonsense!’* said the man. “Why in the 
world should I take the roundabout way across 
, Liebenau ? It takes at least a half hour longer, and it 
is the worst turnpike in the whole region.” 

“That makes no difference to me,” responded the 
historical painter, testily. “ Either you take us as I 
direct, or I will look for another carriage. Shall I allow 
these young artists who have already looked at me with 
contemptuous eyes, to have the pleasure of passing me 
on the road in their fine equipages, while we drag over 
the ground in that apology for a carriage ? No, no ; but 
you can have an extra thaler for your trouble.” 


REFRESHMENTS!” SAID BALTHASAR STELLER, “WHAT DO WE CARE FOR THEM .” — See Page 12 





THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


17 


This offer proved more efficacious than any argument, 
and the driver made no farther objection. Stiller looked 
around for his children, but did not seem disposed to 
rack his brains over their whereabouts. Just then 
Lieutenant von Hardenegg and the two girls, Elfriede 
leading the way, came up to him. 

“ We can start at last,” he said. “ I think, after wan- 
dering aimlessly about for hours, as we have been doing, 
that we will agree that we have had more than enough 
of this charming festival. I have never been so tired in 
my whole life as I am to-day.” 

He was helping his daughters into the carriage while 
he spoke, and now climbed in the creaking old vehicle 
himself. He raised his hat in answer to Hardenegg’s 
polite greeting. 

“ Good evening, Herr Lieutenant, good evening. I 
am glad to have made your acquaintance. Go on, 
driver — by way of Liebenau, remember !” 

The man gave a “ Hup ” and cracked his whip. His 
poor broken-down beast gave a start as if it would fall 
over from fright, and then moved off on a slow trot. 

A moment later a turn in the road hid the carriage 
from the eyes of the Lieutenant. 

Slowly and thoughtfully Hardenegg turned back 
toward the castle. He had a feeling of compassion for 
this family with whom fate had dealt so roughly, and 
with this feeling of compassion was a sensation of 
another kind which he could scarcely analyse. 

“What folly,” he murmured, striving to put the 
Stillers out of his mind. “ I go away to-morrow or next 
day and shall probably never see or hear of them again. 
How stupid to spend a whole day so unprofitably.” 

Not long after he met his friend Briining, and they 
took their seats in the light, olegant carriage which was 
to take them back to the city. The young sculptbr was 


18 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


in such high spirits that he scarcely noticed the 
abstracted air of his companion. As the horses started 
off the young officer said, abruptly : “ Is there no way to 
return other than that by which we came ?” 

“Yes, we can go back by way of Liebenau, but it is 
much longer, and a wretched road as well.” 

“ The evening air is so refreshing, and the moon has 
already mounted above the tree tops. So you would get 
something in exchange, Briining, for going out of your 
way.” 

“You’re right enough. Coachman, we’ll take the 
turnpike over Liebenau !” 

During the first quarter of an hour the sculptor 
chatted gaily over the events of the day. Then he lit 
his cigar and threw himself back in the carriage, resting 
his head comfortably on the cushions, and Somnus and 
Morpheus soon brought him under their gentle influence. 
The clear moonlight gave a silver sheen to the 
picturesque and quiet landscape. The horses had been 
trotting swiftly for nearly an hour, when Hardenegg’s 
keen eye detected a dark object in the road at some 
distance in advance of them. 

“ What do you think that is, coachman ?” he asked, 
with rather an uncomfortable misgiving in his mind. 
The driver had for some minutes been conjecturing 
about the dark mass himself, and now answered, decid- 
edly : 

“ It is a broken-down carriage ; some one has had the 
misfortune to be overturned.” 

Now, they could see under the shadows cast by the. 
trees which lined the roadside, the figure of a man who 
was leading a horse and swearing vociferously. As 
they approached, Hardenegg told the coachman to stop, 
for he recognized the man as the driver who had started 
with the historical painter and his family. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


19 


“ What has happened ?” he called out. 

The discomfited driver gave a surly reply. 

“ What would be likely to happen ? My axle-tree is 
broken, and I don’t know what other damage besides, 
and it’s no wonder on this cursed road. The hangman 
take the old fool and his crazy whims.” 

“ Where is he ? What has become of them all ?” 

“ If you whip up your horses you will overtake them 
in fifteen or twenty minutes. First they waited awhile 
to see if any thing could be done with the carriage ; 
then they grew impatient and decided to start on foot, 
which they might as well have done in the first place !” 

Hardenegg gave the order to go on as quickly as 
possible, and looking at his sleeping friend saw that he 
had not been disturbed by the rather noisy halt. After 
about ten minutes rapid travel over the rough road they 
saw a group of dark figures some distance ahead of 
them, and a minute later heard loud voices and then 
suddenly a cry for help in a woman’s voice. 

“Drive as rapidly as you can !” cried Hardenegg to 
the coachman. “I think those people need assistance, 
and at once.” 

The man urged his horses on to fresh speed. 

“Yes, its a terrible neighborhood,” he said. “The 
workmen in the quarries about here are for the most 
part rough fellows, and Liebenau is a rendezvous for 
hard characters.” 

Just here the road was soft, and there was no sound 
of hoofs or carriage wheels to attract the notice of the 
little group whom they were approaching. 

Under the shadows of some great trees Hardenegg 
saw a crowd of men whose rough cries and loud voices 
did not leave him in doubt as to the class to which they 
belonged. Taking the whip from the coachman’s hand 
he sprang from the carriage. 


20 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“Try to rouse Herr Briining, if you can, and on no 
account leave your horses. I think I’ll be able to manage 
those fellows alone.” 

This confidence indicated a high degree of self 
reliance, for there were at least a dozen rough look- 
ing men surrounding Balthasar Stiller and his chil- 
dren. 

One of the roughest, with noisy clamor, held the old 
man fast in their midst ; another had caught the sun- 
shiny Marguerite by the arm and she had bravely 
warded him off. No one had as yet ventured to 
approach Elfriede, who stood erect, her head proudly 
thrown back, trying if possible to come between harm’s 
way and her sister. She showed in the midst of that 
wild scene with her unprotected family around her, her 
intense earnestness of character. 

Yet before Hardenegg had reached the group, he saw 
one rough fellow with more brutality than his mates 
grasp Elfriede by the arm. At the same moment 
Ewald, with the temerity of a young lion, sprang upon 
him, pulled him back and struck him a blow in the 
face. Then the curly head of the youth suddenly dis- 
appeared ! 

The Lieutenant had now come up to them, and before 
the vagabonds realized that any one was near, he was 
upon them. With a heavy blow he struck the first 
man who turned upon him, and felled him to the 
ground, then he forced his way into the middle of the 
little circle. All his anger seemed directed against the 
ruffian who had seized Elfriede. Twice he struck him 
upon the head with the heavy handle of his whip, and 
with such force that he fell to the ground, moaning 
loudly. Then the cuts fell so swiftly, keenly and indis- 
criminately upon the heads, arms and legs of the 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


21 


scoundrels that they soon thought of nought else but 
escape. 

The uniform of the Lieutenant, with his flashing sabre 
at his side, filled them with fear, and as they now 
caught sight of Briining’s commanding figure hastening 
towards them with rapid strides, they turned as one 
man and fled into the darkness behind the trees. 

The greeting which was now given Hardenegg was, 
it need hardly be said, -of an entirely different nature 
from the dismissal he had received a short time before. 
Balthasar Stiller shook him warmly by both hands, call- 
ing him over and over again, the rescuer of his children. 
Elfriede, too, had cordial words of thanks, and Mar- 
guerite, regaining again her courage and her saucy 
manner, said that now, at last, she knew how the brave 
Roland appeared after the battle of Ronceval. It was 
Briining who ended all this homage which Hardenegg 
was receiving. 

“ I see dark shadows moving back there among the 
firs, and if those fellows should decide that they fled 
too quickly and come back again to renew their attack, 
there’ll be little chance for us. You will have to take 
our carriage, Herr Stiller, and no time should be lost in 
placing your daughters in it.” 

The painter hesitated about accepting Briining’s kind 
offer ; but he knew that, after all, he could do nothing 
else. Just as he was going to step into the carriage he, 
for the first time, missed his son. They called his name 
several times, and at last Ewald’s tall slight figure was 
seen emerging from among the dark trees. He had no 
words of thanks for the young officer and declined most 
decidedly to take a place in the carriage. 

“ I will start on,” he declared, “ for there is nothing 
now to fear.” 

But even as he spoke, his body began to sway and his 


22 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


face looked deadly pale in the moonlight. Briining 
supported him with a strong arm. 

“What is the matter, Ewald?” he said, “are you 
hurt?” As if angry with himself, Ewald pressed his 
lips together. 

“ Oh ! It is nothing ; at the most only a scratch.” 

“ At all events, you must not think of going a step on 
foot.” 

“Take your place in the carriage at once, for your 
delay may bring your sisters into fresh danger.” 

Silently Ewald obeyed this earnest exhortation. His 
father however leaned over the side of the carriage once 
more, and called to Hardenegg : 

“ Good-bye, Lieutenant ; I sincerely hope I shall see 
you to-morrow in my modest dwelling.” 

The fiery horses drove off rapidly, and very soon the 
noise of the carriage wheels died away in the distance. 
The two friends followed on foot. Briining’s fear that 
the miscreants would again renew the attack was 
groundless, and without further annoyance they reached 
their destination. When the pedestrians arrived at the 
city’s edge, Briining for the first time broke the oppres- 
sive silence. 

“You intended to start on your journey to-morrow, 
did you not, Hardenegg?” 

“ Yes, I did ; but I shall probably stay two or three 
days longer.” 

“ And do you really think of paying the Stiller family 
a visit ?” 

“ It would seem rude not to, after the pressing invita- 
tion I have received.” 

“In spite of all that, I do most earnestly beg you not 
to go near them.” 

The young Lieutenant frowned slightly. ‘ 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


23 


“Are you in earnest, Brlining? And what are your 
reasons ?” 

“ You must know them yourself, they lie on the sur- 
face. These young maidens have no other possession in 
the world but their good name.” 

“And do you think there is any danger of them losing 
it, should I pay them a visit ? You do not appear to 
hold me in very high esteem, my dear Briining.” 

“ My friendly disposition towards old Stiller forces me 
to be candid. He has his peculiarities, but he is an hon- 
orable man through and through, and fate has used him 
hardly enough. I should be deeply moved if he came to 
grief through the actions of any member of his family.” 

“ Your solicitude does your good heart honor, but 
your exhortation has really been sent to the wrong 
address. I will never rob these young people of peace 
in their hearts or in their homes, whether I see little or 
much of them in the future. And now we will dismiss 
the subject, dear friend — I am too old to find such 
admonitions to my taste, no matter how kindly meant.” 

They soon reached the hotel where Hardenegg was 
staying, and their adieus were much shorter and cooler 
than ever before. 

Since the adventure on the high road, there had been 
a feeling of irritation between them, which could not be 
hidden beneath any outward form of civility. 


24 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


CHAPTER II. 

Late on the following afternoon, Hardenegg lay upon 
the sofa in his room at the hotel, smoking most energeti- 
cally. His face wore a disturbed and discontented 
expression. He held in his hand a letter, which he had 
read carefully for the second time, and its perusal had 
just evidently put him in a very bad humor. It was an 
old-fashioned looking sheet with a gilt coat of arms 
stuck up in one corner, and the writing was delicate 
and small. It read as follows : 

“ My Dear Kurt : 

“ I was more than disappointed not to 
see you as I expected yesterday, and have but this 
moment finished reading your letter in which you say 
you will remain several days longer with your quondam 
army comrade Briining. I pray you to cut your visit 
short, for I greatly desire your presence here now. You 
have been absent nearly a year and my mother-heart 
longs to see you again. I had hoped no word from me 
would be necessary to bring you to my side ; but other 
and more important reasons underlie my desire for your 
speedy return. The Count and Countess Bassewitz, 
with their daughter Hertha, are my guests ; they came 
yesterday and will remain only a few days. They know 
that you are on your furlough, and would deeply resent 
the insult, if you did not hasten home at once to wel- 
come them. You know the Count’s wealth and also 
how difficult he is to approach. For months I have been 
moving heaven and earth to bring about this visit, and 
now when I have succeeded in getting them here, it 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


25 


would be inexcusable for you to wantonly thwart my 
plans. The main thing to do is to win over the Count, 
and that, with your personal qualifications, you can 
readily accomplish. 

“ Then, after a short time, a formal and public betrothal 
can take place. When Bassewitz once gives his word 
that will end it ; there will be no taking it back. 

“ The Countess Hertha is just fifteen years old, she is a 
very lovely girl and is developing rapidly, and will soon 
enough find a wooer if you neglect your present oppor- 
tunity. Of her qualifications of mind or heart I cannot 
judge, as I have seen too little of her, as yet. Her birth 
is undoubtedly good, and to judge from outward appear- 
ances she lacks nothing in training. She is now and 
then rather self-willed and unmanageable ; but her 
father, oddly enough, never sees anything in her conduct 
which requires reproof. But you will see her for 
yourself, and will be the best judge. The best of all is 
that the heart of the little Countess is yet untouched. 
You will resemble your father very little if you do not 
make her your slave in twenty-four hours. 

“ Need I tell you what good fortune this alliance would 
be to us ? Countess Hertha is the Count’s only child. 
Her marriage portion will be a large one, and she will be 
his only heir. Then this fear and trembling will be at 
an end for all time. # 

“It is just possible — and I have lulled myself into 
security with the hope these many years— "that your 
uncle, Botho Hardenegg, has died without descendants, 
and that no one will ever come to lay claim to his inherit- 
ance. But there come to me days and hours when I 
am nearly driven to despair. Only think, Kurt, what 
would become of us if anything so dreadful happened ! 
We should be beggars, and who knows whether worse 
might not threaten us. 


26 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ I will not cast reflections on your father’s memory, 
but he has through his generosity and his boundless 
hospitality brought us to such straits that any retreat 
from the beaten path is now an impossibility. The only 
thing that remains for you to do is to make a rich, a 
very rich, marriage, in order that you may look all pos- 
sibilities in the face without concern. I have done my 
best for you and have smoothed the way so far as it has 
been possible ; but now it is for you to take the last and 
decisive step, and I feel certain that you will not, in 
youthful folly, throw aside the fruits of my unremitting 
labor. With anxiety and longing I await your coming. 

“ Your Mother.” 

“ Nothing but marriage plans and spectres,” Harden- 
egg muttered angrily to himself as he folded the letter 
again. “ As if a man was not put out enough who had 
to wait thirty years before he could take possession of 
his inheritance, without having then to marry a child to 
gain security. No, my honored Mamma, a day more or 
less will make no difference to this very sensitive Count 
Bassewitz.” 

He rang for his servant to assist him in making some 
change in his attire. He would not make his visit to 
the Stiller family in uniform. The people in this old 
residence city had rather odd ideas of their own, and 
the appearance of an officer at the modest dwelling of 
the historical painter might give rise to unpleasant 
comments. 

Briining had not put in an appearance during the 
entire day, and although Hardenegg had a conscious 
feeling that something had gone wrong between them, 
still he could not but feel grateful for his friend’s 
non-appearance. 

It was almost dark when he stepped up to the shabby 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


27 

looking house in the narrow street which had been 
pointed out to him as the one occupied by Balthasar 
Stiller. It was three stories high, and the Stiller family 
lived at the top. The old worn steps creaked and bent 
under the officer’s heavy tread, and all the surroundings 
spoke of w r ant and poverty. Marguerite opened the 
door of their apartments in answer to his knock, and 
gave him a cordial greeting. The rooms were small 
and the ceilings low, in correspondence with the old- 
fashioned structure of the house ; but the comfort and 
attractiveness of this little home proved that Briining 
had not spoken unadvisedly in regard to the singular 
old man and his family. 

It was not alone the aspect of neatness which the 
place bore which gave to a stranger this pleasant impres- 
sion, but the daintiness and good taste displayed in the 
arrangement and disposition of the simple furniture. 
There was none of that toilsome labor for effect after 
which so many small minds strive, imagining that the 
gilding will conceal the stamp of poverty. 

The longer one remained in them the more home-like 
and comfortable he felt ; even the sea of roofs and 
chimneys did not disturb him or make him realize he 
was in an attic. 

“You would not believe how often my father has 
spoken of you already to-day,” began Marguerite. “ The 
longer he talks of last night’s events the deeper the 
colors in which he describes our frightful position, and 
your great courage appears to him almost marvelous.” 

“ And your sister ?” asked Hardenegg, who had looked 
about the room in vain for Elfriede. “ I trust the shock 
has not made her ill ?” 

“ O no ! she has more courage and stability than any 
of us, even if she does not make a point of it. She is 


28 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


sitting in the next room with Herr Werner, and when 
they two begin talking together they forget all else. 
Come, Lieutenant, we will surprise them !” 

Hardenegg felt a disagreeable sensation at these 
words which he hardly understood, and would never 
have admitted to be jealousy. And when Marguerite 
opened the door to the room in which her sister sat, the 
blood rushed to his heart in a ferment of anticipations. 
And what was the picture that met his eager eyes ? 

In a little window niche sat Elfriede, her hands folded 
on her lap and the rays of the setting sun mingling with 
the sheen of her magnificent hair. A few steps from her 
stood a tall young man clad in dark clothing, leaning 
against a cupboard and looking down with an earnest 
expression at the face before him. 

Hardenegg looked him over with a sharp glance while 
he yet stood upon the threshold. Certainly if this man 
should prove a rival it would hardly pay to begin a 
struggle with such an one. His figure was tall but not 
well developed, and consequently did not impress one, 
and the features of his pale, haggard face could lay no 
claim to beauty. 

His attraction lay in the high, broad forehead, and the 
beauty and depth of his earnest gray eyes. But these 
were scarcely traits to win the heart of a beautiful 
maiden. 

Elfriede did not show the slightest embarrassment or 
surprise at the unexpected entrance of Hardenegg. She 
rose with quiet dignity and bade him welcome. 

“ My father is yet in his atelier, but I will call him at 
once,” she said. “ Permit me, Herr von Hardenegg, to 
present to you our friend, Herr John Werner.” 

The officer would have contented himself with a stiff 
bow, but the young clergyman held out his hand with a 
hearty greeting. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


29 


“ Your name is already an honored one here, my dear 
sir ! You have indeed proved yourself a friend to this 
household.” 

Hardenegg saw they had been left alone, and deliber- 
ately assumed a disdainful tone. 

“ I am overwhelmed, Herr Werner, by your acknowl- 
edgment of my trifling services,” he said. “ You are, 
if I am not in error, an intimate friend of the Stiller 
family ?” 

“ We are neighbors, and that is how I became 
acquainted with them, and I have found only kindness 
and sympathy since our first meeting.” 

In his impulsive manner and earnest voice there was 
no affectation or assumption of grave dignity, such as is 
often the case with young clergymen. 

He spoke quietly and with a friendliness that seemed 
too proud to notice Hardenegg’s spiteful tones. The 
officer felt with each glance a deeper aversion for his 
new acquaintance, and turned with positive rudeness 
from him as Balthasar Stiller with cordial manner 
entered the room. 

“ I have been assuring myself that you would come,” 
cried the painter, in his straightforward and somewhat 
blustering tone. “ You would not allow us to bear this 
load of gratitude and thankfulness without coming near 
us, for that would not have been magnanimous.” 

Hardenegg smiled as pleasantly as he could, consid- 
ering that the old man was nearly shaking his arm out 
of its socket. Then he begged Herr Stiller as a personal 
favor to say nothing more about the matter, a request 
to which the painter acceded with visible reluctance. 
Then Marguerite was called to bring a bottle of wine, 
and the honored guest forced himself to drink a glass of 
the vile decoction, although he had his suspicions that 
it was colored vinegar. After which he expressed a 


30 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


polite wish that he might be allowed to venture within 
the sacred precincts of the atelier. 

The historical painter was evidently in a quandary. 

“You will not be favorably impressed, if you see my 
work by lamplight,” he explained. “ I have almost fin- 
ished a picture which is yet on the easel, but I doubt 
whether you will be much pleased with it. My talent 
lies in another direction than in that of our soulless 
modern painting. I have had higher ambitions than 
dabbling in photography.” 

Hardenegg bowed assentingly. 

“ So I have heard before, Herr Stiller ; and knowing 
how high is your standard in art, my desire to see your 
latest work is naturally very great.” 

“ Really ?” The old man cleared his throat and 
looked at the speaker with a mistrustful and yet pleased 
expression. “ Well, if that is the case, I can certainly 
not say no. Elfriede, bring the lamp ! You won’t see 
it at its best by lamplight, though.” 

The young girl obeyed silently but reluctantly, as one 
could read Jn her face. The atelier was the chilliest 
and least attractive looking room on the whole floor. 
Elfriede’s household duties were at an end at its thresh- 
old, and the contrast was very marked. The bare 
walls and the rough rafters overhead told the story 
plainly enough ; the painter must indeed work for 
bread. In spite of all, Stiller exhibited the pride of a 
man superior to all annoyances, now that he was sur- 
rounded by his own creations ; this place was to him 
evidently the “holy of holies.” 

“ That is the picture,” he said, shortly. “ I call it 
‘ The Vision of a Saint.*” 

Hardenegg stepped up before the easel, and a single 
glance at the singular, hastily-done painting was 
enough to entirely satisfy him as to why Stiller could 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


31 


find no buyer for his works. The haggard, ascetic fig- 
ure of a hermit was kneeling before the entrance to a 
cavern, while in the clouds above was seen a very 
woodeny, stiff-looking angel, very unnatural and a little 
undecided whether to descend in the hope of finding 
ease below or to continue floating amidst the clouds, in 
her present rigid condition. 

Hardenegg stood for some time looking at this pic- 
ture, which was patterned after the old masters. It 
seemed as if the artist, both in his drawing and in his 
coloring, had avoided with careful design all appear- 
ance of reality, and Hardenegg did not feel that he 
could bring himself to praise the work without flushing; 
at the same time it had a certain fascination for him ; 
the angel’s face, which was clearly cut and stood out 
from amid her vapory surroundings, was the face of 
Elfriede, and the halo of golden hair which surrounded 
the beautiful head was at least the work of an artist. 
Hardenegg saw now nothing in the picture but the 
lovely maiden’s face. 

“ A masterpiece,” he said at last, in tones of convic- 
tion. “ If the admiration of a novice in art can be of 
any value to you, you can rest assured that you have 
mine in the fullest measure. Have you a purchaser for 
this picture yet ?” 

Balthasar Stiller’s eyes lighted up with childish joy. 
He stroked his gray beard, and after some slight hesi- 
tation said, in a voice which trembled : “ A purchaser? 
Hum, there has been — there was a rich American 
who — ” 

He did not finish the sentence and the reason was 
evident. Elfriede had arrested his speech and prevented 
his completing the falsehood by her earnest, steadfast 
gaze. 


32 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


Quickly and without effort the guest came to the res- 
cue at this painful moment. 

“ If you have not yet i^ade any definite arrangement, 
pray consider me before you do the American. I will 
pay you your own price.” 

The lamp which Elfriede still held, flickered, as 
though the hands which bore it trembled. The painter 
stared at the speaker with wide-open eyes, and an odd 
expression passed over his honest face. 

“ You — you will buy the picture ?” he stammered. 
“ Are you in earnest?” 

“ Certainly ! I will consider myself in great good 
luck, if you will give me the preference.” 

Stiller stretched out both hands to him. 

“You shall have it,” he cried. “You shall have it ! 
And you shall decide on the price yourself. Ah, you 
cannot know how delightful it is to find some one with 
a true appreciation of art !” 

He was as demonstrative now in his thanks as he had 
been the evening before, after their adventure. Sud- 
denly a thought came to him. “ I cannot send you 
the picture at once,” he said, “ for it needs a few 
touches yet, but I can let you have it in six or seven 
days.” 

Hardenegg did not answer immediately. A great 
temptation came over him, and after a few seconds 
struggle with himself, he succumbed to it. 

“ I shall not leave the city for the next few days. 
Can I come and watch your finishing strokes ?” he 
asked. “ It will be highly interesting to me to see you 
put on the last touches.” 

Herr Stiller, whose temper was in fact that of a child, 
gave the required permission with delight, and as they 
left the studio, his whole manner reflected the happi- 
ness which filled his heart. Hardenegg’s hope that the 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


33 


young clergyman had by this time taken his departure 
was not realized. Herr Werner was talking earnestly 
with Ewald Stiller, who, the Lieutenant observed, carried 
his left arm in a sling. 

“ Is this the result of your fall ?” he asked. “ Are 
you seriously hurt ?” 

The youth had risen while Hardenegg was speaking, 
but the look he cast upon him was one of enmity and 
defiance. 

“ Yes, this is the result of my scuffle,” he answered ; 
“ but it is not worth talking about, only a trifle.” 

“ Only a trifle !” grumbled the father. “ The doctor’s 
bill will be large enough. Did you eve?; hear of such 
folly, Herr von Hardenegg ? Ewald was determined to 
walk home last night, and when he finally did get into 
the carriage, he fainted from loss of blood. One of 
those murderous villains gave him a cut in the arm 
which would have ended his life had it struck his breast. 
And now he won’t go to lped as the physician has 
ordered.” 

Hardenegg now looked closely at the boy whom he 
had scarcely noticed before, and discovered that he bore 
a strong resemblance to his sister Elfriede. Only the 
black curly hair marked a difference, and his counten- 
ance wore a singularly painful and dark expression 
which did not sit well on a youth yet in his teens. The 
bravery which he had displayed on the previous even- 
ing pleased the officer greatly, and he felt himself 
already much interested in this earnest, silent boy ; but 
Ewald’s reserve towards him, and the evident aversion 
he felt for him, were to Hardenegg incomprehensible. 

But he did not worry his head long over the ill-humor 
of the boy. All his interest centered in the elder daugh- 
ter of the house who had again retreated to the window- 
niche, and was soon chatting with her brother and Herr 


34 : 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


Werner, taking little notice of the stranger and showing 
but slight appreciation of his generosity and politeness. 
He finally succeeded in obtaining a few moments con- 
versation with her apart from the others. The young 
girl listened to him with visible absent mindedness ; 
suddenly she raised her beautiful eyes, and looking 
earnestly at him asked : “ Are you an amateur painter, 

Herr von Hardenegg ?” 

The Baron smiled in order to conceal his embarrass- 
ment. 

“That is a direct question, Fraulein Stiller. I cer- 
tainly cannot claim to be a connoisseur.” 

“And yet you were so much pleased with that picture 
of my father’s ?” 

“ Most assuredly — does that seem strange to you ?” 

“To speak honestly — yes. Among his critics he has 
hard work to find any admirer and still harder to get a 
purchaser. Will you answer me another question and 
be frank and honest in your reply, Herr von Harden- 
egg ?” 

The Baron bowed silently. He did not feel very com- 
fortable under this little examination. 

“ Herr Briining spoke to you yesterday about our cir- 
cumstances and told you that my father’s work found 
little recognition, did he not ?” 

“You force me to give you a direct answer, Fraulein 
— yes, he did tell me something of the sort.” 

“And you, out of pity, in order to assist us, have — ” 

Hardenegg interrupted her hastily : 

“ No, no, my dear Fraulein ; on my word, all such ideas 
were far from my mind. It would not enter my thoughts 
to do you such an injustice. If you would only think of 
some other cause,” he said, significantly, as he stepped 
near her and lowered his voice. “Can you not Imagine 
why I came here to look at the pictures, and why that 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


35 


particular one took my eye ? In it I have seen nothing 
else but the heavenly face of — ” 

“ It is very sultry here, Herr von Hardenegg,” the 
girl interrupted, with a manner of proud indifference, 
“ if you will permit me, I will open this window.” 

The young officer pressed his lips together. These 
repeated rebuffs wounded the spoiled darling of the fair 
sex in his most sensitive point, his self-love ; but his 
young hostess so charmed him that he was more anxious 
than ever to break through her reserve and pride. 

Elfriede had thrown open the doors of the window at 
which they were standing, and as they swung back, and 
the fragrant, quickening evening air rushed in, there 
came with it soft, penetrating sounds from a violin which 
was being played in some neighboring room. During 
the silence which followed Elfriede’s last words, her 
companion listened attentively to the sweet sounds, and 
he was enough of a musician to recognize the instru- 
ment and to realize that the unseen artist who handled 
the bow so skilfully was a master of his art. 

“ Who is the virtuoso you have in your neighbor- 
hood ?” he said, turning to his host who joined them at 
this moment. “ I have seldom heard finer execution 
than his.” 

Ewald, who until now, remained quietly at the clergy- 
man’s side, rose abruptly and left the room, as his father 
replied, emphatically : 

“ You need not envy me this neighbor ! No human 
being in the whole world is so detestable to me as this 
cursed fiddler. You ought to see him once ! I am 
certain that he has at least one murder on his con- 
science.” 

Hardenegg with difficulty kept from smiling. 

“ Really ? Is he so dangerous an individual ? And 
do you know his name ?” 


36 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ He is a Russian and calls himself Kostomarow,” said 
Marguerite, joining in. “ He lives over there in the 
second story where the heavy curtains are hanging at 
the window. He looks uncanny enough, that is certain, 
and one would have a creepy feeling if they came face 
to face with him along a lonely road. But he’s not so 
bad, after all, and father was as much captivated by his 
music as any of us, at first.” 

“Would to Heaven I’d moved out of the place the 
first day I ever heard that unlucky fiddle. If the fellow 
is not an escaped convict, you may rest assured he is 
the spirit of the rat-catcher of Hamelin. Here he has 
changed my Ewald in a few, short weeks from a fresh, 
light-hearted lad into a music-mad dreamer and an 
obstinate, sullen fellow. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised 
if this lame devil with his fiddle would entice him away 
some day to live and die in misery in a strange land.” 

Here lay the reason for the strained relations which 
appeared to exist between father and son. 

“ Perhaps your son has a talent for music ?” ventured 
Hardenegg. 

“ Yes, he has, rather ; he has inherited it from his 
mother, and since the white-bearded Russian has caught 
him in his net, he is possessed of the craze to become a 
musician.” 

“ And do you look upon that as a great misfortune, 
Herr Stiller ?” 

“ Do I think it a misfortune ? The very greatest, my 
dear sir, truly, the very greatest ; but if I can have my 
way it will never happen. He shall never follow in his 
father’s footsteps. I know the sad part in this mortal 
pilgrimage that is played by an artist ! In three months 
he will complete his studies at the Gymnasium, then he 
will go to serve his apprenticeship with a merchant ; 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


37 


that is settled. The world of our day belongs to the 
man of business.” 

This subject seemed to excite the old man greatly, and 
in order that he might no longer hear the strains of his 
enemy’s violin, Elfriede hastily closed the window. 

Hardenegg felt the necessity of choosing some fresh 
topic of conversation. 

“ And do you also share your brother’s musical procli- 
vities ?” asked he, turning to Marguerite. She shook her 
head, and replied, laughing : 

“No, indeed; when the distribution of talents was 
made in this family, I was overlooked entirely. The 
horn of plenty was emptied upon Ewald and Elfriede. 
If you only know how to beg, perhaps my sister will 
sing you one of her heavenly songs.” 

“Marguerite !” Elfriede cried, reproachfully ; but of 
course she could not prevent Hardenegg’s urgent 
request that she would favor him with one of her songs. 
She scorned any parley over the matter and rose at 
once. With a friendliness which was anything but 
gratifying to Hardenegg, she turned to the young clergy- 
man : “ Will you accompany me, Herr Werner?” 

The piano, which stood in the corner of the room, was 
a much carved, very old-fashioned looking instrument ; 
but as Werner touched the keys with a firm but soft 
touch, the sounds which it gave forth were full and in 
perfect accord. Elfriede’s voice had a sweetness and 
strength which were.delightful, and her execution proved 
that the golden haired girl was no beginner in music. 
She sang one of Schumann’s most difficult compositions, 
and as the Baron listened he recognized new beauties 
which he had never before heard in the oft-repeated 
old song. When she finished, he applauded warmly in 
a few well-chosen words. 

“Yes, it is a pleasure to hear her,” said Balthasar 


38 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


Stiller, with fatherly pride. “ Now you must sing a duet 
together. You will be delighted with Werner’s voice, it 
is a fine baritone.” 

With growing uneasiness Hardenegg had now to 
listen to the harmonious blending of the two voices. He 
looked contemptuously at the haggard face of this friend 
of the family, and he could not conceal from himself 
that he had been overhasty in his judgment as to the 
man’s insignificance. While he stood there singing, as 
it seemed, from the depths of his heart, his face disclosed 
a deeply spiritual and sensitive nature ; Elfriede’s per- 
ception of the beautiful composition was at one with his 
own, and Hardenegg could readily see with his jealous 
eye what pleasure these two took in singing together. 
It was with difficulty that he could bring an honest tone 
into his voice as he made his acknowledgments of their 
kindness. He leaned back in his chair with a scowl on 
his brow, when the father at the end of the first song 
insisted on having a second. 

The Baron would have been in a still worse humor 
had he known the conversation which was going on rela- 
tive to himself at the same time in a neighboring room. 

When Ewald left them at the sound of the violin, 
he had gone into his sleeping-room, from which he had 
slipped out noiselessly, and going down the back stairs 
had left the house without any one being any the wiser. 
The street was dark and a murky cloud hid the moon 
from view, so that Ewald could not be seen from his 
father’s windows above ; yet he lingered close to the 
wall listening to the sounds from the beloved instru- 
ment. 

“ I dare not go up to him,” he murmured, “ for I have 
promised my father I would not. But if he should come 
down there, no one could blame me for that !” 

After a little while he crossed the street, and opened 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


39 


the door of the house. A moment later some one 
appeared on the landing above and called down in a 
hoarse, rough voice : “ Ewald — is it you, down there ?” 

“ Yes, Herr Kostomarow ! I was afraid they would 
see me across the way. Can you come down for a 
moment ?” 

There was a sound like a hoarse laugh, and a 
moment later a tall, stooping figure leaning on a cane 
appeared on the stairs, and came down limping. 

“ Are you so fearful, my boy, and so disobedient with 
it all ? Yet you cannot be otherwise if you are too weak 
to make an open fight of it.” 

He who spoke was an old man in regard to whose per- 
sonal appearance Balthasar Stiller had used little exag- 
geration. Surely here, in the uncertain flicker of the 
street lamp, his large head had an unearthly and ghost- 
like aspect. He had snow-white hair and a long, thick 
beard of the same color, but the face, which was half- 
hidden by it, was sunken and colorless ; his sharp features 
gave an impression which might not have been unattract- 
ive in his younger days. The deeply furrowed fore- 
head was strongly developed, and the deep sunken eyes 
glanced out from the heavy white brows with a keen 
and almost youthful fire. He was decently dressed, and 
his language was that of an educated man, and remarka- 
bly free from any Slavic accent. 

He had reached out his bony hand to Ewald and the 
boy had seized it with impetuous fervor. 

“ How thankful I am that you came down to me, Herr 
Kostomarow ! You are always so kind to me !” 

“ That is folly ! What I do, I do to please myself. 
Later in life, boy, you will see that the greatest and 
noblest actions have the same foundation. What is all 
this I hear about you from the janitress ; that you have 
been attacked and are wounded ?” 


40 


THE BREACH OE CUSTOM. 


“That does not signify. I got a little cut ; it pains a 
little, but is not dangerous. But did you hear the rest ?” 

“ What was that ?” 

“ Only about the courageous knight who drove the 
knaves away.” 

“Yes, the woman did tell me something about an 
officer. What did he do that was so wonderful.” 

The youth curled his lip contemptuously. 

“Nothing — absolutely nothing. He was riding after 
us, in order to catch another glimpse of my sister 
Elfriede when the attack was made, and he was just in 
the nick of time to play the hero. If I had had his 
strength and a sabre at my side, I could have routed 
them without any assistance from him.” 

“I don’t doubt it, Ewald. You have none of the 
coward about you ; I can vouch for that. But you say 
he was interested in your sister, how did he happen to 
know her ?” 

He asked the question eagerly, as though he had a per- 
sonal interest in the matter. 

“ Early in the day at the artists’ festival he forced 
himself upon us and was very polite to my father, all on 
Elfriede’s account, for it is easy enough to see that he 
will make sport of the rest of us so soon as his back is 
turned.” 

“And your sister ? The noble officer has pleased her, 
doubtless ?” 

“No! I honestly believe that she detests him. But 
my father looks upon him as an extraordinary being. 
He’s in our rooms this very minute and has been there 
for the last two hours.” 

“Who? The officer? He visiting your father ?” 

“Yes, but not in his uniform. Doubtless he was 
ashamed to mount to our attic in it. Notwithstanding 
his condescension his arrogance shows in his eyes. You 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


41 


should have seen his detestable pride, as he turned away 
from Herr Werner.” 

Again Kostomarow gave his disagreeable, significant 
laugh, but his face retained its usual expression. 

“ I understand well that type of man,” he answered, 
grimly. “ And before Heaven you are justified in hat- 
ing such insolence and presumption. Whoever will 
become an honest man must learn with time to resist the 
yoke that tyrants are ever ready to place on his shoulders. 
And what is the name of this admirer of your sister?” 

“ He is a Baron von Hardenegg !” 

The old man’s shriveled hand fell heavily on his com- 
panion's shoulder. 

“ Hardenegg, do you say ? That is not true !” 

“ That was the name Herr Briining gave when he 
introduced him to us. Do you know him, Herr Kosto- 
marow ?” 

Whatever this sudden ebullition had meant it was over 
in an instant, and the old musician answered, curtly : 

“No ! I do not know him ; but it is not impossible 
that I may meet him some day. But don’t bother your- 
self about it. You have been forbidden to visit me ?” 

“Yes! And I was obliged to promise. Ah, Herr 
Kostomarow, my father will never consent to my taking 
up the study of music.” 

“You’ll do it sooner or later without his permission. 
One should listen to the voice of nature rather than to 
the short-sighted wisdom of men. And nature has cer- 
tainly ordained that you should become an artist.” 

“ If I only dared believe that ! It is a happiness of 
which I can only venture to dream.” 

“ The dream may become a reality to you. But such 
good fortune only comes after hard and constant work. 
Well, when you have decided you can count on me.” 


42 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ Oh, I will work and study day and night ! But what 
can you do to help me ?” 

“ No use questioning until the time comes. Such 
gossip is as little use as castles in Spain.” 

They entered as they ceased speaking the dimly 
lighted entrance to the Stiller house. And now they 
heard a door open and shut again in the third 
story, and a heavy step came slowly down the winding 
stairs. 

“ That is Herr von Hardenegg,” whispered Ewald. 
Kostomarow pushed the boy hastily away. 

“Go out!” he ordered. “He shall not see you 
here.” 

“I don’t care whether he does or not,” replied the 
boy, defiantly ; but the old man’s eyes glittered almost 
angrily. 

“Go!” he repeated, peremptorily. “I wish you 
to.” 

This time the boy ventured no remonstrance, but 
pressed his friend’s hand silently and hastened out into 
the dark court and up the back stairs, the same way he 
had slipped down an hour before. 

Kostomarow remained standing at the open hall 
door, so that he would be forced to make way for any 
one going out. Ewald was correct, it was Kurt von 
Hardenegg who came slowly down the stairs. 

When the Baron caught sight of the old man he had 
little doubt that this was the musician about whom so 
much had been said by Herr Stiller. He brushed his 
arm in passing and the two men gazed steadily at one 
another for a second as though each was fascinated. 
Then the officer stepped past without a word of greet- 
ing and disappeared in the darkness. 

A sharp, keen glance crossed Kostomarow’s face, and 
the severe countenance seemed sterner than before. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


43 


The old man. passed his hands over his eyes and brow, 
and grasped his walking-stick with a new energy. 

“ It is he — there can be no mistake !” he muttered. 
“ Well, I thjnk we will have a few words to say to one 
another yet, Baron von Hardenegg.” 

Then slowly, unmindful of the first heavy drops of 
rain, he limped back across the street to his own dwell- 
ing. 


CHAPTER III. 

Hardenegg wrote his mother that he would be forced 
to delay his return home for several days, at least, 
owing to a matter of some importance, which required 
his attention. He thought the matter was settled, 
until he received a peremptory telegram from her which 
caused him to waver in his resolution. “ I implore you 
to come, I demand your obedience in this. Everything 
here depends upon your presence.” The Baron was 
the more impressed, because he knew his mother was 
not a woman prone to feminine exaggerations. He had 
to admit to himself, on calm reflection, that he had no 
reasonable ground for staying where he was. He 
could not hide from himself the fact of his growing 
passion for the artist’s fair daughter ; he realized 
fully that it would be far better to set off at once 
and free himself from the fetters of this foolish 
fancy. 

Longer delay seemed really purposeless, and he 
acknowledged to himself that he had little ground for 
hope that he would ever win the girl’s favor. He had 
been at the painter’s the day before, but Stiller had 


u 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


taken him to the atelier and had kept him there too, 
while Elfriede had persistently avoided him. 

He had spoken with her for only a moment and then 
in the presence of her father and sister, and their short 
conversation had been on the most indifferent topics. 
“For which prize shall I strive?" he asked himself a 
dozen times. Better by far to order his servant to pack 
up at once and be off by the first train, but he lacked 
the energy to give the order. He would go back at 
least once more, and make one last effort to break 
through the icy reserve which enveloped the girl. 

“ I will be with you to-morrow without fail,” he 
wrote on a sheet of paper ; but as he stretched out 
his hand to ring for the servant to take the telegram, a 
sharp knock was heard at his chamber door. 

“ Here is some one who desires to speak to you, sir," 
announced the waiter. “His name is Kostomarow." 
The Baron looked up surprised. What could the old 
violinist possibly want with him ? 

“Ask him to come in," he said, not without some 
curiosity concerning the object of this visit. 

The person who entered was the same uncanny-look- 
ing old man whom he had passed in the door-way a few 
evenings before. His clothes were none of the best, and 
his manners were not those of the circle in which 
Hardenegg was accustomed to move. 

“Are you Herr von Hardenegg?" asked Kostomarow, 
shortly, as he stood leaning on his cane in the middle 
of the room. “ I have sought you out, because I am in 
the position to make what will be perhaps an interesting 
communication to you." 

The Baron pointed to a chair. “ I am at your service, 
my dear sir, although I imagine that you rest under 
some misapprehension." 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


45 


“ That we can soon determine. Are you a descendant 
of Baron Kurt von Hardenegg of Buchwald ?” 

“I am, indeed. He was my grandfather and I was 
named for him, and the estate of Buchwald is my inher- 
itance.” 

He had an uncomfortable feeling when Kostomarow 
gave his peculiar harsh laugh without moving a muscle 
of his dark face. 

“Your inheritance ? Well, let us see whether you are 
quite accurate in your statement. Was your father the 
only son of Baron von Hardenegg ?” 

The old man’s presence was already beginning to be 
disagreeable to the young officer, and the latter did not 
trouble himself to conceal his impatience. 

“ No ! But before you continue your queries, will 
you kindly answer me one question ? What has induced 
you to become so much interested in my family and our 
belongings ?” 

“You will hear soon enough,” answered Kostomarow, 
composedly. “Your father had a brother, an elder 
brother, if I am not mistaken ?” 

“Yes, he had. And does your interesting com- 
munication concern him ?” 

Kurt asked the question abruptly, and an expression 
of concern overspread his face. 

The Russian seemed in no haste to answer ; he looked 
keenly at the officer for several seconds before he spoke. 

“To a certain extent, yes. I lived for many years in 
close companionship with a man calling himself Baron 
von Hardenegg, a son of Baron Kurt of Buchwald.” 

His listener was not able to conceal his growing 
uneasiness. He drew a step nearer his forbidding- 
looking companion. 

“ If what you tell me is true, then indeed your com- 
munication may be of the greatest importance. When 


46 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


did you first meet my uncle — under what circumstances 
— and what has become of him ?” 

“One at a time. But first I would like from you a 
confirmation of what I have heard from himself in order 
to settle the matter as to his being really what he 
claimed to be. Do you know why your uncle left his 
father’s house and his native land ?” 

It was evident that the Baron was disturbed by this 
direct question. 

“ I had not made any appearance in the world when 
all that happened,” he answered, evasively. “ But I 
believe he had some difficulty with the superior officer 
in his regiment, and then a difference of opinion between 
himself and his father decided him to leave Buchwald.” 

“ Ahem ! That coincides tolerably well with the story 
he told me. And you have never known what became 
of him ?” 

“No, so far as my knowledge goes nothing was ever 
heard of him after his departure. The family have 
thought him dead for years.” 

“ Dead. And is there no one who would rejoice if the 
dead should rise ?” 

Hardenegg frowned. 

“ I do not know, Herr Kostomarow, what warrant you 
have for such a question. At any rate, these family 
matters lie without the pale of our conversation.” 

The old musician nodded acquiescently, although not 
a muscle of his face moved. “ You are right. Why 
should you enter upon a question which I can myself 
answer?” 

“ And which without doubt does not concern us. And 
is my uncle still among the living?” 

Kurt had endeavored to speak in an indifferent tone, 
but the hand which restlessly pulled his moustache 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


47 


trembled and his whole manner betrayed an anxiety 
which he would fain have hidden. 

Kostomarow shrugged his shoulders. “ I cannot say. 
I saw him last about twelve years ago, when he lay 
severely wounded on a boundless snow-covered plain.” 

“That sounds very dramatic. I would be thankful, 
Herr Kostomarow, if you would relate to me succinctly 
and without circumlocution what you know, if you 
really do know anything, about my uncle and his fate.” 

“I come here for that purpose. A detailed account 
would weary you, and I have neither the inclination nor 
the breath to give it ; and perhaps the incidents con- 
nected with your uncle’s history would hardly be edify- 
ing to you. I suppose that it differs in some measure 
from the — undoubtedly very glorious — traditions of your 
house. I learned to know him in St. Petersburg, just 
when, I have long ago forgotten. He was then, as you 
are wont to say in Germany, in his best years ; and I 
have reason to believe that Russia’s capital city was not 
the first halt he had made in his wanderings, but where 
he had been before is of no interest to either of us, 
nor is it of any moment how he supported himself in St. 
Petersburg. Possibly he taught ; it is possible also that 
he had some private resources ; perhaps he starved. We 
lived under the same roof, and talked often over our 
opinions of matters and things. His were always exag- 
gerated.” 

“ That is very probable ; how could it be otherwise 
when he, without just cause, became a wanderer on the 
face of the globe ?” 

Herr Kostomarow laughed again, if one could call 
that hoarse grunt a laugh. 

“ Quite right, how could he have been otherwise, as 
you say. But holy Russie was a more dangerous place 


48 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


in which to exhibit eccentricities than was his own 
Fatherland. On« fine day he disappeared.” 

“You lost sight of him ?” 

“Yes, for in the fortress of Peter and Paul, where he 
was imprisoned, it was no easy matter for an outsider to 
see him.” 

“In the fortress? Are you certain, sir, of the truth 
of what you say ?” 

“ It does not please you ? That I can readily under- 
stand. Have I not already said that this Baron von Har- 
denegg totally disregarded the traditions of his family ? 
He was either in some conspiracy or he was accused of 
it ; and the administration of justice in that blessed 
land of the Czar is such, that you might as well be one 
as the other. Two years later I had an opportunity of 
renewing our friendship.” 

“ Probably they proved him innocent, and gave him 
his liberty ?” 

“ From the prison — oh, yes ! But the place where we 
again met was not much better. It was down deep in 
the earth, in the mines of Siberia, and we were pre- 
vented from shaking hands, because each of us wore 
two heavy chains.” 

Hardenegg was dumb from amazement and fright ; 
all color had disappeared from his face. Herr Kosto- 
marow seemed to derive great pleasure from these 
reminiscences. 

“ We could both say most heartily that it was a 
mercy that we were there at all. Many a man had been 
done for altogether upon weaker evidence than had 
been brought forward against us. But life in a silver 
mine cannot be said to be one of the pleasantest phases 
of existence. It was a dreary time for us, so that we 
longed for anything which would bring diversity into 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


49 


our lives, and, with the help of an overseer who shared 
our sentiments, we effected our escape.” 

“ All this sounds like a romance. I do not doubt your 
word, however, for what you have related does not lie 
beyond the range of possibilities ; I shall need some time, 
though, to familiarize myself with this strange story.” 

“The only proof which I possess is in my honest face 
and this.” 

Here he stretched out his arm and pulled up his 
sleeve to show a deep, circular cut in his arm which the 
heavy iron chains had made. Hardenegg made a slight 
motion of horror, remembering Balthasar Stiller’s 
description of this man, and his prophecy that his musi- 
cal neighbor would turn out to be an escaped prison 
bird. He moved a step back with an expression of dis- 
gust, and Kostomarow spoke again in his rough, harsh- 
sounding voice. 

“ In spite of the assistance which we had, it was no 
easy matter to escape after all, for the pursuers were 
upon us and had us by the throats when we least 
expected it. Two of them had to be laid in the grass 
before Hardenegg and Kostomarow could continue their 
journey.” 

“Do I understand you aright? You and my uncle 
killed your pursuers ?” 

“ You have understood me correctly.” 

“ Then he is really a murderer !” thought the officer. 
He felt he must bring the conversation with this terrible 
man to an end as quickly as possible. 

“ Go on ! Did you succeed in escaping?” 

“ I did — certainly ! Otherwise I would not be sitting 
here before you. What happened to our companion I 
am not able to say. We roamed about without any 
definite aim, half starved and half frozen. One day we 
discovered there were a couple of cursed soldiers who 


50 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


were pursuing us, and had you been in my place you 
would have understood just how a poor hare feels when 
you noble folk are courageously hunting him to the 
death with hound and horn. 

“ The bullets whistled by our ears at close quarters. 
And although the fellows were devilish bad shots, they 
could hold out longer than we. My companion was shot 
down at my side, and a few hundred steps farther on the 
same fate overtook me. A bullet struck me in the hip, 
but fortunately I was able to drag myself into a hiding 
place, and my pursuers passed by without discovering 
me.” 

“And your comrade, the — supposed Botho Harden- 

egg?” 

“ I have told you all I know.” 

“ So, then, according to your account, he is undoubt- 
edly dead ?” 

“ I did not hear his dying groan. The situation was 
not one in which I could concern myself about him.” 

The Lieutenant began to pace the room restlessly. 
Nothing in the world had ever upset him so much as this 
day’s developments, and he had a hard struggle within 
himself between doubt and hope. 

Had he read the adventurous history of this unknown 
uncle he would have treated it as a fiction ; or had any 
one else told him what he had just heard he might have 
doubted. But there was something convincing in this 
man’s manner, and something corroborative in his speech 
and appearance, which made him have no doubts as to 
the truth of what he had just heard. And what interest 
could this stranger have in manufacturing such a ghastly 
tale, in which he himself certainly did not show to the 
best advantage. His bearing was assuredly not that of 
a man who looked forward to a reward. 

But just here lay the doubt ; what had brought him 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


51 


there with this story, if not some selfish motive ? Kurt 
von Hardenegg felt he was justified in that suspicion at 
least. 

“You say that it is twelve years since you escaped — 
since you last saw Botho von Hardenegg ?” 

“ About that ; I cannot count the days and hours.” 

“And in all these years you made no attempt to 
acquaint the family of your friend and fellow-sufferer 
with his story and probable fate ! How does it happen 
that you come to me now with your confidence ?” 

“ There is no reason why I should answer that ques- 
tion. Just assume that I have recounted all this to you 
because an accident had brought a Hardenegg into my 
neighborhood, just at the moment when I felt an incli- 
nation to talk over the old times.” 

“And will you permit me to give you some substantial 
expression of my sense of indebtedness for the informa- 
tion you have imparted to me ?” 

“ You mean you would like to pay me some money 
for it ? Well, perhaps at some later day I may come 
for w'hat is due me. To-day it is enough for me to 
know that my tale has given you pleasure.” 

There was a tone of derision in his voice, but the old 
man’s stony features neither confirmed nor denied what 
the tone implied. 

Leaning heavily upon his cane he turned shortly and 
limped towards the door. The Baron followed him, 
but could not bring himself to extend his hand at part- 
ing. When he reached the threshold, the Russian 
turned around. 

“A beautiful maiden, this Fraulein Elfriede, is she 
not?” he asked, abruptly. 

Kurt stepped back a pace. 

“ I do not know, sir, of whom you speak,” he answered, 
proudly. 


52 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 

“Have you forgotten already? Well, so much the 
better, so much the better ! There are no laurels for 
you in yonder garret ; but you might make an enemy 
of some one there with whom it will be better for you to 
be at peace. Believe me, the warning I give you is well 
meant ! Adieu.” 

These parting words so dumbfounded the listener 
that he could not collect his senses in time to call the 
old man back and demand an explanation. Kostomarow 
was already far down the stairs before Hardenegg 
fully comprehended what had been said to him. After 
all, he scarcely regretted that he had let him go with- 
out replying to his threat. This old man’s faculties 
were evidently not of the clearest, and it would not be 
wise, after all, to hold any conversation with him, or call 
him to account for a speech which was doubtless dic- 
tated by jealousy. 

But if this man was half crazed, could one put belief 
in anything which he had said ? The Baron vacillated 
between two opinions, but finally decided that he must 
believe him in the main. Kostomarow’s history could 
not have been made altogether out of thin air, and even 
if but a small portion of it were true, Kurt felt that it 
was, after all, a certain guarantee of his uncle’s death. 
And this consideration was of immense importance to 
Hardenegg. If he could only be certain that Botho 
von Hardenegg would never return to claim his rightful 
inheritance. 

In truth, Kurt had never earnestly believed in the pos- 
sibility of his uncle’s return, but the confirmation which 
his opinion had to-day received gave him a gratifying 
sense of perfect security. 

He turned to the table upon which lay the dispatch 
he had intended sending to his mother, and a happy 
thought struck him. What did he care for the Baron 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


53 


Bassewitz and his daughter, if the reasons which 
induced his mother to desire an alliance with them 
were no longer of importance. What was there now to 
prevent him carrying on this delightful adventure with 
the painter’s daughter, and of finally overcoming 
her proud reserve, by some well considered plan of 
attack ? 

Truly this Kostomarow with his mysterious history 
had come on the scene at the right moment ; he had 
earned his thanks in a greater measure than he imag- 
ined. 

Smiling, he destroyed the first telegram to his mother 
and wrote a second, which he dispatched at once by his 
servant. 

“ The fulfillment of your desire is impossible, the 
reason for your disquietude exists no longer. I have 
just received the confirmation of Botho von Hardenegg’s 
death years ago. More when we meet. 

“ Your Son.” 

To the imagination of the sanguine nobleman the 
revelations of this day had forever dispelled the gloomy 
apprehensions and voiceless fears, which, from time 
to time, like ghostly shadows had darkened the 
splendor of his brilliant career. All that was past 


now. 


54 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


CHAPTER IV. 

It was about noon when John Werner ascended the 
many steps which wound their way up to Balthasar 
Stiller’s apartment. He did not usually mount them so 
slowly, and when he reached the Upper floor he delayed 
knocking for some minutes. 

“ Can I speak with Herr Stiller ?” he asked of the old 
servant who responded to his knock ; but the answer 
was not encouraging. 

“The master has shut himself in his atelier, and he 
gave me orders not to disturb him except for something 
of importance. I believe he is in haste to finish the 
picture which he has just sold.” 

Werner hesitated. 

“ It is not a matter of importance, at least to him. 
And the rest of the family, have they gone out ?” 

“Fraulein Elfriede is the only one at home. Won’t 
you come in for a few moments, Herr Werner?” 

He accepted the invitation, and followed the woman 
with an air of embarrassment which was not natural to 
him. 

The servant had not thought it necessary to announce 
him, and his entrance was therefore a surprise to 
Elfriede. 

“You, Herr Werner — and at this hour?” she 
exclaimed, as she laid down her stitching, while a new 
light came into her beautiful eyes, and the tell-tale color 
mounted into her cheeks, showing that his coming was 
not indifferent to her. But her friendly greeting did 
not dispel Werner’s melancholy and perplexity, and he 
pressed his hand to his head several times like a man 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


55 


who was suffering from some great physical or mental 
strain. 

“I am very sorry to disturb you at this unseasonable 
hour,” he began. “ But as I shall doubtless be obliged 
to leave town early to-morrow, I could not forbear — ” 

There was a tremor of sadness in his voice, and a look 
of astonishment and anxiety came into Elfriede’s face. 

‘‘What! Are you going away?” she asked, as he 
stopped speaking. “What has occurred to call you 
away so suddenly ?” 

“ Nothing with which I need be dissatisfied. The old 
and enfeebled pastor of Frauensee needs an assistant 
who will in time become his successor, and the consistory 
have called me.” 

Elfriede could not prevent his seeing that her eyes 
were moist, but her voice had the ring of hearty sincerity 
as she congratulated him upon his good fortune. 

“How rejoiced my father will be to hear of your good 
luck,” she continued, “although it will be very hard for 
us to lose such a dear friend.” 

The young man let his head sink down and looked 
earnestly at her. 

“ The loss will be a great one to me,” he said, softly. 
“ The happiness which I have felt in my intercourse with 
you and your family I shall never find again. To me it 
seems that I am leaving all I prize behind me.” She 
knew not what to say to comfort him, for his feelings 
found an echo in her own heart. 

There was a long silence between them and then 
Werner continued, as if rousing himself from a dream : 
“As soon as I get to Frauensee the pastor will go off 
for a vacation. I shall be entirely alone in the par- 
sonage, and I fear shall be very lonely in my new home.” 

Elfriede bent deeper over her sewing. 

“ Perhaps that won’t be for long, Herr Werner. You 


56 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


must have a hearth of your own, and take a wife who 
can kindle a fire in it for you.” 

Her words had a playful sound, but there was a trem- 
bling in her voice which the speaker could not control. 
Over the listener’s face passed a glimmer of joyful hope. 

“ Oh, is this hope not too presumptuous, Fraulein 
Elfriede,” his voice wavered — “ that a true-hearted maiden 
may consent to share with me the simple, lonely life of a 
woodland village ? I have very little to offer her. It may 
be years before I have a pastorate of my own, and even 
then I shall have but a limited income. The woman who 
links her fate with mine will have no glittering destiny.” 

“But she could be happy, notwithstanding. I believe 
that true love will ever be the same, no matter how 
modest the surroundings.” 

Never had her voice sounded so sweet in his ear, never 
before had such a rapturous feeling filled his breast. 
He did not glance shyly at her now, but his earnest eyes, 
which glowed with a mild, tender warmth, gazed 
steadily at her lovely face. 

“Ah, Elfriede, it takes all the courage which I can 
muster to ask you if it would be possible for you to 
share with me that modest home.” 

He had come close to her and taken, without resistance, 
her hand, while he was speaking. But the little hand 
had suddenly become cold, and Werner felt it tremble as 
he held it within his own. 

“ Why do you not answer me ?” he asked, anxiously, 
after waiting patiently for a short time. “ Is it possible 
that I have misunderstood you ?” 

The battle which Elfriede had fought with her own 
heart was over. Without fear or embarrassment she 
looked in her friend’s honest face. 

“No,” she said, “ you have understood me aright. I 
am certain that the woman who will give herself into your 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


57 


keeping will find great happiness. But not to me is it 
given to receive such a blessing.” 

“Not to you, Fraulein Elfriede ?” His lips trembled, 
and a nameless terror was stamped upon his face. 

“ Do not be angry with me,” she said, tenderly. “ I 
will be as frank with you, as you have always been with 
me. My sphere of action lies between these four walls. 
Here I have found my life’s task, and it is here that I 
must seek my happiness. I must never leave my father, 
and I must be my sister’s protector until she finds a bet- 
ter and a stronger one.” 

“And therefore you reject my suit ?” 

Elfriede bowed her head affirmatively. 

“ I have taken a responsibility upon myself, and I 
must be steadfast for the sake of my family, and bring 
into their lives as much sunshine as is possible. You 
have been to this hour, my best, my only friend. You 
would not try to persuade me, John, to be untrue to 
myself? No, let us part to-day, as we have always met, 
cordial, warm friends. And if at any time I should need 
the support of your strong arm, I shall never hesitate to 
oall upon you for assistance.” 

She held his hand in both her own and looked at him 
with affectionate earnestness. Neither her companion 
nor herself had perceived that some one had entered the 
adjoining room — the carpet had subdued the scJund of 
the footsteps, and they had no warning of an approach- 
ing interruption until the door opened. Balthasar Stil- 
ler stood upon the threshold, and beside him was Kurt 
von Hardenegg. The unsuspecting painter saw nothing 
to excite suspicion in the start of surprise given by the 
sad lovers as he entered. He greeted his daughter’s 
companion in his wonted hearty manner ; the Lieuten- 
ant however, bit his lips and looked past Herr Werner 
with a glance of proud indifference, as though he was 


58 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


unconscious of his presence. In that moment, the 
Baron’s own eyes had given him the evidence of a 
’ rivalry, all thought of which he had hitherto dis- 
missed with a smile. 

It was clear now that he had been repulsed in all his 
efforts to win Elfriede’s favor for the sake of this insig- 
nificant, haggard-faced preacher. He had never seen 
her looking half so beautiful as at this moment, when 
her countenance reflected the deep emotion which 
stirred her soul. A feeling of frantic jealousy, which, 
in a man of his hot-blooded temperament, soon becomes 
the wildest passion, seized him, and left in his brain 
room for no other emotion ; his one thought was to ban- 
ish this insufferable rival from Elfriede’s side, not only 
for to-day but forever. 

He excused himself upon some slight pretext from 
going to the atelier with the painter, and as he saw 
that the young clergyman had no intention of 
departing immediately, he did what he thought would, 
under the circumstances, be most apt to accomplish his 
object. 

“ I came here to carry you off for the rest of the day," 
he said, turning to his host. “ I have so often enjoyed 
your hospitality that you will not, I am sure, refuse 
to accept mine for once. We will dine at my hotel, 
and afterwards the ladies — if they will be so good — will 
take a drive with us.” 

Balthasar Stiller stroked his long beard as was his 
habit when anything pleased him. 

“Your proposal is not a bad one ; what do you say, 
Elfriede ?” 

“ It is assuredly a matter for you to decide, dear 
father. We shall be forced to decline the drive, for I am 
expecting a visit from a girl friend.” 

Hardenegg was prepared for this refusal, and yet he 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


59 


felt himself aggrieved anew. But still, he had accom- 
plished something, for it would be impossible for 
Werner to remain behind when Herr Stiller and he had 
left the house. Therefore, he only answered Elfriede 
with a bow, and then requested her father to get ready 
at once to accompany him. 

In a short time the old man re-appeared in holiday 
garb and with glowing countenance. 

“ Why may not I begin to be frivolous even if I have 
gray hair,” he said, laughing. “ How goes it with you, 
man of God ; will you make the third at this little 
dinner ? You look as though you needed a little recrea- 
tion.” 

Werner declined the invitation ; but he knew it would 
be necessary for him to go when the others did, and he 
so longed for another word alone with Elfriede. He 
felt the warm pressure of her hand at parting, but he 
also knew that this silent mark of her affection gave 
him no more reason to hope than did the eloquent look 
from her beautiful, speaking eyes. This tender, word- 
less parting between the two was not lost upon the 
keen-eyed, distrustful Hardenegg, and he found it diffi- 
cult to treat the clergyman with ordinary civility during 
the short time he was in his company. 

As soon as he was left alone with the painter, he 
appeared to be in the best of humors. In spite of Stiller’s 
avowed repugnance — the day of the festival — to dining 
in conspicuous places, he had no hesitation in accepting 
the officer’s invitation, and his loud speech and pro- 
nounced manner aroused the suspicion that he wished 
to attract the attention of the rest of the guests to his 
fine company. He did speak to one or two, but Harden- 
egg was attentive and ordered choice wines, and it was 
not long before the liquor obtained the mastery over 
him. The dinner had just been served when a waiter 


60 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


announced to Hardenegg that Herr Brlining was with- 
out, and desired to speak with him a moment. 

Hardenegg felt annoyed. The sculptor had called 
twice at the hotel within the past few days without 
meeting him, and Kurt had an uncomfortable conscious- 
ness that he had hardly been polite to his friend. He 
excused himself to Stiller and went out. Briining’s 
earnest look gave little promise of an agreeable inter- 
view. 

“ I must not neglect to say farewell to you, Harden- 
egg, for I suppose the day of your departure is near at 
hand.” 

“ That almost sounds as if you wished it were. I think 
I shall remain here for an indefinite period.” 

“ I beg pardon, but this determination on your part 
surprises me.” 

“ It will give those people who are always looking for 
the confirmation of strange rumors, an opportunity to 
re-echo all that has been said in the artists’ quarter for 
the past few days.” 

The lieutenant had been drinking pretty freely, and 
the blood rushed to his head. 

“ I do not know why any one in the artists’ quarter 
should busy himself about me,” he said, sharply. 

“ Well, they only talk over what is public gossip. Or 
do you believe that it is an every day matter for a noble- 
man to give poor Stiller a fabulous sum for one of his 
impossible pictures ?” 

“ How do they know it, and what do they say ?” 

“You little know your gray-haired protege, if you 
imagine that he will modestly conceal from the world 
this triumph for which he has waited all his life in vain. 
I am convinced that he goes around the streets in order 
to inform every acquaintance he meets of the wonder- 
ful news. Yesterday I saw him in earnest speech with 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


61 


the editor of the Morning jPost, and I could wager that 
there’s an article in the columns of his paper this morn- 
ing concerning this newly arisen Maecenas and patron 
of the arts.” 

“ How like a little town ! Is it then so preposterous 
a thing in this little nest for a man to purchase a picture 
which pleases him ?” 

“ Not at all. The only preposterous thing about it is, 
that you should be pleased with a picture of Stiller’s. 
But the good people hereabouts, always industrious in 
such matters, have penetrated the mystery. With sig- 
nificant smiles they have reminded one another that the 
painter has a beautiful daughter.” 

“ Well, what does that signify ? Who ventures to sus- 
pect me of any wrong intentions ?” 

“ To suspect ? What an unpleasant word. There is 
not a man, woman, or child in the town that is not over- 
joyed at the good fortune which has come to the honest 
family.” 

The face of the Baron reddened to his very eyes. 

“ Briining, is that mockery ?” he demanded, looking 
at the sculptor with blazing eyes. 

The other knocked the ashes quietly from his cigar as 
he answered : 

“ Not in the least. I speak in entire earnestness ; why 
should I believe that my friend would be guilty of a 
base action ?” 

Hardenegg clenched his hand. But at that moment, 
he caught sight of his guest, standing with wine-flushed 
face in the door of the dining-hall, and withheld his 
passionate answer as a quick, defiant thought flashed 
through his brain. 

“ It is indeed wise to judge my actions cautiously,” 
he answered, in a subdued voice, “ for that saves one or 


62 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


the other of us from being put to shame. Come back 
to-morrow, and we will finish our conversation." 

With a cold bow of dismissal he turned back to meet 
Balthasar Stiller. Loud enough for Briining to over- 
hear, he said to his guest : 

“ We will smoke our cigars in my room, for we have 
some important matters to discuss with one another, my 
dear friend." 

The sculptor shook his head as he looked after them 
ascending the marble staircase arm in arm. 


That whole day was a festival for Herr Stiller, and in 
his simple, open-hearted manner he made no secret of it 
to his host. 

He lay back on the soft cushions of the couch with 
the greatest satisfaction, and blew the cigar smoke from 
his mouth in graceful rings, while he watched with 
interest the skilful manner in which Hardenegg filled 
the champagne glasses. 

“Truly, you rich people have no idea what enviable 
creatures the whims of fate have made you," he said. 
“I’ll wager that a dinner such as we have just eaten 
and a bottle of this wine afterward, seem to you the 
most commonplace things in the world, and your 
thoughts scarcely take a higher flight than a care for 
the amusements of the next few hours. I don't intend 
to complain, but it seems a sad thing when one, like 
Moses of old, is shown the promised land in the distance, 
knowing that he must come down again from the 
mountain and be buried in the wilderness. This heav- 
enly wine has given me back for a few hours my youth 
with all its enthusiasm. If I only had my brush and 
my canvass, I would surprise you by the inspiration of 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


63 


my genius. But this flash of light with which the wine 
has fired my blood lasts no longer than the flicker of a 
straw fire. By the time I climb up to my poor attic it 
will all have vanished, and nothing will remain but the 
apathy and indisposition which follows after intoxica- 
tion. The only memory which will abide with me will 
be of a past pleasure, and the surety that I would have 
been a renowned man if I had been born to the purple 
like yourself.” 

Hardenegg had, in the meantime, emptied his own 
glass twice, and now refilled it with trembling hand for 
the third time. 

“And with your vigor and creative powers, do you 
really consider it too late to retrieve what at one time 
the goddess of fortune saw fit to refuse ?” 

“ We may as well assume that it is too late ; there’s a 
certain kind of comfort in that, you know.” 

“ No, my dear friend, you have not quite understood 
me. I should consider myself very fortunate, if I could 
assist in part, at least, toward the fulfilment of your very 
natural desires.” 

“ Bah ! You are poking fun at me. Do you think of 
dividing your fortune with me ?” 

The lieutenant had been drinking pretty heavily, and 
he now put his glass on the table with a clink and rising 
pushed his chair back. 

“Yes — upon one condition.” 

The painter shook back his long gray hair and looked 
up at the tall aristocrat standing before him, unable to 
decide whether Hardenegg was joking, or in earnest. 

“ That must be a singular condition,” he growled, 
without putting the cup which he had just taken from 
the table, to his lips. “Just for sport, tell me what it is.” 

“ There is no jesting about it. I am in deep earnest. 


64 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


If your daughter Elfriede will become my wife I will 
share all with her and her family.” 

Balthasar Stiller’s glass had fallen to the floor, and he 
crushed his half smoked cigar in his left hand, appar- 
ently unmindful of the fact that it had burnt him. He 
rose from the couch with trembling knees. 

“ I am an old man, Herr von Hardenegg, and I cannot 
at this moment decide how much I am under the 
influence of this devilish wine. It may be possible that 
I have chattered like a magpie, but is that a reason why 
you should scoff at me ?” 

“What shall I say to convince you of my seriousness ? 
Perhaps I might have chosen a more fitting time and 
place for my proposal ; but I felt assured that you were 
not the man to take offence at a mere want of due form- 
ality. I now formally ask for the hand of your daughter 
Elfriede, and I await your reply.” 

The painter’s surprise and perplexity had been great, 
but now with astonishing rapidity he took in the situa- 
tion. His knowledge and experience of life was little 
more than a child’s, and after a few seconds reflection 
the impossible became to him the most natural thing in 
the world. What did it matter to him then that in the 
opinion of the world around him an impassable gulf lay 
between the Baron’s social position and his own. Was it 
not enough that the amiable aristocrat had entirely over- 
looked it ? With the emotion of a happy father he went 
to Hardenegg and threw his arms around him. There 
was no wavering now. His honest conviction was that 
he had now nothing to do but give his blessing. 

“My son! My son!” he cried, with a real sob. 
“ What a surprise ! What a joy !” 

Stiller’s overwhelming tenderness affected Kurt rather 
unpleasantly, and embarrassed him as well. Not with- 
out trouble he led his embracer to the sofa, and placed 



BALTHASAR STELLER MEETS JOHN WERNER . — See Page 68, 






THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


G5 


him gently upon it, and then sank into a chair opposite 
him. 

“ I thank you heartily, rfiy dear Herr Stiller, for your 
fatherly wishes,” he said ; “ but I am not quite so certain 
of getting a friendly reception from Fraulein Elfriede ?” 

“ Why should you doubt that ? How could she hesi- 
tate to exchange her miserable present for a glittering 
future ?” 

Hardenegg smiled involuntarily. This childish old 
man, whom a promise of riches had quite intoxicated, 
was almost a sad spectacle. 

“ I assuredly do not think,” he said, quietly, “ that 
your daughter’s decision in this matter will be 
influenced by any thought of change in her future mode 
of living. I can only hope to possess her, if I can win 
her love.” 

“ Certainly — certainly, what then ? Why in the world 
should you not win her love ? Have you not come into 
our house like the prince in the fairy tale ?” 

The Baron had intended to speak of Herr Werner, but 
he seemed unable to open his mouth on the subject of 
this hated rival. And, above all, he did not exactly know 
how the painter, in his present humor, would be affected. 
If there was really any love-making between Werner 
and Elfriede, it was at least evident that this simple- 
minded man had not the slightest premonition of it. 

For some time longer, Herr Stiller reiterated his 
assurances of satisfaction and delight ; then he took up 
his hat. 

“ What ? Not going yet, are you ?” asked Hardenegg. 

“You must not think me ungracious, dear son,” said 
the old man, preparing to depart. “ But every time I 
think of this extraordinary news, whether from joy or 
sadness I feel so confined within these four walls that I 
long for room. I must go out in the air and be alone 


6G 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


for an hour, for the wine and joy are having a perfect 
witches’ dance in my brain.” 

“ And the decision — the answer from your daughter, 
when shall I receive that ?” 

“You wish that Elfriede should hear of her good 
fortune through me ?” 

“Considering the shortness of our acquaintance that 
seems to me the best plan.” 

“ Certainly, certainly ; I should almost have choked 
had you requested me to remain silent. Come and dine 
with us to-morrow and get your answer. We will give 
you a hearty and fitting reception.” 

“May your confidence be justified, my honored friend. 
We will have fine days together at Castle Buchwald.” 

“What — do you mean me? Will you take me with 
you ?” 

“ Of course, I never thought of separating such a 
charming family. In my home there is room enough 
for all.” 

“I — in a castle? It’s enough to make one die of 
laughing.” 

And before Hardenegg was prepared for a new dem- 
onstration, Stiller had almost smothered him with 
another embrace. This stormy manifestation of affec- 
tion on the part of his future father-in-law appeared to 
Hardenegg somewhat plebeian, and he made no further 
effort to detain him longer. 

“Until to-morrow, dear son,” were his farewell words 
as he went down the stairs. Hardenegg shut and locked 
the door after him and then went back to the window 
and flung it open. He had an oppressed feeling, and 
great beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead. 
What he had this hour done was undoubtedly the most 
important and significant action of his whole life. 

It was impossible to tell what would be the end of it 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


67 


all. He was horror-struck when he considered the 
inevitable consequences of this offer ; neither reason nor 
calm deliberation had played any part in it ; there had 
been no room for reason. The wine he had drunk had 
incited him to it. He had made his mad leap with 
closed eyes, and how readily might that blind spring 
prove his ruin. 

How everything seemed to have conspired against him 
just at this decisive time to rob him of his senses and 
benumb his judgment. Kostomarow’s disclosures had 
assured him most unexpectedly of his freedom and inde- 
pendence ; the intimacy existing between Elfriede and 
Werner had fanned the spark of jealousy within his heart 
to a glowing flame, and lastly, the sarcastic calling to 
account from Briining had forced him to take this posi- 
tion for his own justification. All these things working 
together had their influence on a man of Hardenegg’s 
temperament and had driven him to take the rash step. 
For that his proposal to Elfriede was rash, he had 
become convinced before her father had left him. But 
he did not repent of it. His manly self-reliance fortified 
him against the fear of the future which came creeping 
over him. 

After all, what had he to fear ? He would have to 
battle against his proud mother’s opposition. He knew 
beforehand that this battle would be both hot and fierce ; 
but whether for good or ill, she must resign herself to 
the inevitable. His greatest sacrifice would be that, 
upon his marriage with this poor maiden, he would have 
to withdraw from active service ; and that thought did 
distress him greatly. He was heart and soul a soldier, 
and he realized to-day that it would be no easy matter to 
exchange the gay, glittering military life for the monoto- 
nous existence of a country gentleman. But, after all, he 
consoled himself with the thought that the possession of 


68 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


so beautiful and amiable a girl for life would repay him 
a hundredfold for his sacrifices of to-day. Even if his 
heart had been torn by the bitterest regret he would 
still not have thought of retracting his offer or seeking 
a way out of the difficulty by retreat. He had given his 
word, the word of a nobleman, and that ended the mat- 
ter. 

“ Until to-morrow,” he repeated to himself. “The old 
man seemed confident enough, but I wish the next 
twenty-four hours were well over.” 


CHAPTER V. 

Herr Stiller walked the streets for a couple of hours 
with his hat on the back of his head and his coat care- 
lessly unbuttoned, until he thought himself sufficiently 
composed to enter his home and announce to them the 
great, good news with becoming dignity and solemnity. 
It was dusk when he turned into the little street where 
his dwelling lay, but not too dark to recognize the tall, 
slender figure pacing up and down in the shadow of the 
houses opposite. 

“ Hello, Werner !” he called across to him ; “are you 
moon-struck ? Or have you a secret love affair, which 
brings you out promenading in front of the dear one's 
windows ?” 

Werner started as if he had been caught perpetrating 
a crime. 

“ I have been getting a little fresh air,” he answered, 
embarrassed; “and then — then I also hoped I might 
meet you. It was impossible for me to say good-bye to 
you to-day at noon because of your visitor.” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


69 


Balthasar Stiller only heard him with half an ear. 

“ So ? You are going away, are you ?” he asked, 
indifferently. “ Have you grown tired of us all in this 
old city ?” 

Werner sighed. 

“ No, it is not that. I have a call as assistant to the 
pastor at Frauensee, and I set off to-morrow.” 

“ Well, I wish you good luck. It is not a very bril- 
liant position, to be sure ; but a young man, and single, 
too, can get through the world with little trouble. 
Perhaps you’ll let us hear from you now and then. I 
wonder, my young friend, if you have any idea what has 
happened to me ?” 

“ No, Herr Stiller, I have not, indeed.” 

“ How could you know ? It is no every day occur- 
rence, after all. Properly speaking, I should say nothing 
at all about it ; but you have always been a friend of 
ours, and especially Elfriede’s friend — isn’t that so?” 

“ I hold no one in the world in such high esteem as 
her, Herr Stiller.” 

The painter shook his hand cordially. 

“ That is very nice of you ! It would be a sin to hide 
the joyful news from you. My Elfriede is betrothed.” 

“ Betrothed !” 

The painter was far too much excited to notice the 
perceptible change in Werner’s voice as he uttered that 
one word. 

“Yes, she is betrothed!” he repeated, with much 
energy. “ But there is nothing strange of itself in that. 
That may happen any day. The main thing is the 
person to whom she is engaged. And now, pay atten- 
tion, man of God ! Elfriede’s future husband is the 
First Lieutenant Baron Kurt von Hardenegg of Buch- 
wald. That’s a long-winded name, but not so bad.” 

“ No, truly — not at all bad.” 


70 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


Werner repeated it mechanically and drearily ; he was 
hardly conscious he had spoken at all. 

“ But you have met the future bride-groom,” Stiller 
gossiped on. “A fine-looking man. I don’t believe 
there’s another in the whole city who will compare with 
him. And rich — enormously rich ! But you don’t say 
anything. Perhaps my chatter wearies you ; if so, 
accept my apologies.” 

“Forgive me that I did not immediately express my 
hearty good wishes. And Fraulein Elfriede ? She is 
very happy, is she ?” 

“ Of course she is, although at this moment she knows 
nothing at all about it. When a father goes out in 
search of pleasure on his own account, he ought to bring 
the children something when he comes home, and I will 
draw this great surprise from my pocket as if it were a 
box of bonbons.” 

He reached out his hands slowly ; but the young 
clergyman had suddenly become very red in the face, 
and summoning up all his courage said : 

“ If your daughter does not know it yet, Herr Stiller, 
is it not possible that she — that she may not accept 
Baron von Hardenegg?” 

The old man stared at him, wondering if he was out 
of his mind. 

“Not accept him ? How in the world could you have 
conceived such a ridiculous idea? Not accept him and 
become a rich and influential lady? She will consider 
her old father and put an end to his galling struggle 
for existence, which has cost him the greater portion of 
his artistic ability. For you see we are all to share my 
son-in-law’s possessions, and my studio will hencefor- 
ward be set up at Buchwald. Oh, there’ll be many 
changes in the future, my friend. The world will yet 
hear of Balthasar Stiller — it will hear of him ; bear that 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


71 


in mind. Well, do you yet believe that my daughter 
will not accept him ?” 

The flush of hope had long since faded from the young 
man’s pale cheeks. 

“ No, I think you are quite correct,” he said, in a low 
tone; “I can but pray to Heaven that your daughter’s 
future will be a happy one.” 

“Yes, that’s a very sensible wish. But why cannot 
you go in with me now. It will be a great pleasure to 
you to witness Elfriede’s happiness.” 

The young man turned hastily away. 

“ No, not now, Herr Stiller, not now. I will write to 
Fraulein Elfriede and congratulate her, if I do not find 
time to call at your house again before I leave town.” 

“ As you choose. I must not delay any longer now. 
Good-night !” 

He shook the clergyman warmly by the hand, and 
then turned in at his own door. As he mounted the 
steps quickly, he said to himself : 

“ I really believe that this pious young man is not 
quite free from envy. As a sincere friend he should 
have expressed himself a little more heartily over our 
good fortune.” 

The painter’s displeasure would have been even 
greater had he seen the look of despairing sadness which 
overspread John Werner’s face as he went wearily back 
to his own little room. 

The two sisters were sitting in their family room 
when their father entered. Elfriede was occupied with 
some needlework, and Marguerite was reading aloud 
in her clear, toneful voice from a book. When Herr 
Stiller entered they rose to meet and embrace him. He, 
however, kept them back with his outstretched arm, and 
said, assuming a theatrical position and speaking in cere- 
monious tones : 


72 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“Fraulein Elfriede Stiller, I stand before you as a 
suitor for your hand in the name of Baron Kurt von 
Hardenegg, who lays his heart and his fortune humbly 
at your feet.” 

The two girls gazed at him in silent astonishment. 
Their father had never before shown the slightest sign 
of intoxication on his return from a visit, and they 
did not know in the first moment how to take this sur- 
prising conduct. Elfriede, whose face had become very 
red, started to lead him to the sofa. He took her head 
between his hands and kissed her with unusual tender- 
ness. 

“ My child, my beloved child,” he cried, struggling to 
keep back the tears. “ I have always known that all our 
happiness would come through you V* 

“ Good heavens, father, is it really true ?” asked 
Marguerite, who had stood motionless, divided between 
fright and astonishment. “You are joking with us, and 
I do not think it at all nice.” 

“ No, dear children, I am not joking, but am in sober 
earnest. We are to go to the castle of his ancestors ; 
Elfriede — our Elfriede will be enthroned as its mis- 
tress ? ” 

And without even throwing off his artist’s cloak he 
related to them, with many embellishments and exag- 
gerations, all that had passed between the Baron and 
himself, on this eventful day. In glowing colors, over 
which his loving fancy lingered, he painted the gorgeous 
picture of their future, which to his child-like soul had 
already become a reality ; and Marguerite’s full heart 
rejoiced with her father as soon as she became fully 
convinced that his intoxication was of joy rather than 
of wine. They were both so overcome with delight 
that neither of them for the moment troubled them- 
selves about Elfriede. The elder daughter had released 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


73 


herself some time before from her father’s embrace and 
had turned back to the table. Her face was quite color- 
less and her features had assumed a statue-like rigidity. 
She uttered no word, but gazed fixedly into the flame of 
the small lamp as if what they were saying was nought 
to her. When Balthasar Stiller remembered that it 
would be well to hear what the person most interested 
had to say, she was forced to speak. 

“ Well, my golden-haired home fairy,” he cried, step- 
ping to her side. “ Is not all this worth a word of 
thanks, or a kiss for your foolish old father ?” 

When she turned to him slowly, and with a strong 
effort at self-command, tears were glistening in her eyes 
and her lips trembled. 

“ Do not call me your home fairy, father,” she said, 
gently, “ for I greatly fear that soon you will think me 
a bad and ungrateful daughter.” 

“An ungrateful daughter — you? What notion have 
you in your head now?” 

He leaned with both hands upon the table, for her 
enigmatical words had frightened him so that his knees 
were trembling. Elfriede saw the sudden change in his 
face, and read the horror in his eyes, and her courage 
sank at the thought of dashing to pieces all his joyful 
illusions. Without speaking, she threw herself in his 
arms, sobbing violently, and the old man smoothed, with 
trembling hands, the head which lay against his 
breast. 

“Elfriede, my dear Elfriede!” he murmured, ten- 
derly. “ How could you ever become a bad daughter 
to me ?” 

The unspoken anxiety was almost pitiful, and the fear 
of disappointment lent a tremor to his voice, for his 
fear was now as apparent as had been his childish joy 
a moment since. It would have seemed almost bar- 


74 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


barous to have disturbed his dream of happiness ; 
and Elfriede, who loved her father devotedly, did 
not feel herself capable of administering so cruel a 
blow. 

When she at last raised her tear-stained face from his 
shoulder she had regained mastery enough over herself 
to return his timid gaze with a smile, but the old man 
never could know what that smile cost her. 

“I am agitated and surprised, dear father," she said, 
wiping the tears from her cheeks. “ You must not be 
impatient with me, because I have been a little foolish. 
Give me time to think it all over ; to-morrow — to-morrow 
we will talk of it. But now I need quiet and repose." 

The painter did not answer or force her to be more 
explicit. The reception of his supposed joyful news 
had been so contrary to what he had expected that his 
heart was vexed and sore within him. But he ventured 
no expression of opinion, though his soul was possessed 
with a nameless dread. He accompanied Elfriede to 
the door of the room which she shared with her sister, 
and embraced her lovingly. “ Sleep well, my child," 
he said, “ and be certain nothing lies so near my heart 
as your happiness." 

His voice broke, and he went with uncertain steps to 
a chair as his daughter closed her door. Marguerite, 
who had been looking and listening with wide open 
eyes, went up to him and put her hand on his shoulder. 

“ What is it, father ?" she asked. “ Why is Elfriede so 
down-hearted ? Have you not brought us glad and 
happy tidings, at which we should rejoice ?" 

The painter passed his hand over his eyes as if he 
would dissipate the gloomy thoughts which overpowered 
him. 

‘‘Yes, yes, that’s what I thought," he answered, with a 
sigh. “ But perhaps we are both mistaken, my child, 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


75 


perhaps — but what’s the use of talking about it. Light 
my lamp for me, and I will go to my room and paint a 
little.” 

Marguerite obeyed, but she knew from his voice that 
all pleasure in talking the good news over had vanished. 
With heavy steps he went to his sanctum and bolted the 
door after him, but he did not work. He stood looking 
for a while at his almost completed picture, thinking 
sadly of this day’s events, when the words came clear 
and loud from his lips: “Yes, yes, I want nothing but 
her happiness ! She shall not be miserable for my sake. 
But, my God, my God, why have you shown me all this 
splendor if it is to be nothing more than a vision !” 

He threw himself down on the hard leather sofa to 
dream again and again through the long, silent night 
the vision of joy which had exalted his soul that day, 
and which now threatened to dissolve into thin air like 
the illusion of the poor hermit in his picture. 

Marguerite, in spite of her excitement and impatience, 
remained for some time alone in the family room. But 
when her father did not return, her loneliness grew 
unbearable, and she went softly to her own apartment 
hoping not to arouse her sister. To her astonishment, 
Elfriede had not yet retired, but sat at the window, with 
her chin resting on her hand, looking fixedly at the 
starry heavens. Marguerite went to her softly and threw 
her arms around her, but Elfriede put her back, not 
unkindly. 

“ Elfriede, my own, dear Elfriede, what is it that makes 
you so sad? Won’t you tell me • and let me help you 
bear your sorrow?” 

Marguerite had knelt on a stool by her sister’s 
side, and Elfriede kissed her gently on the fore- 
head. 

“ I thank you from my heart,” she said, tenderly, “but 


76 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


the care which oppresses me is not for your young 
soul, and I fear you would only understand me in 
part. Do not press me now ; to-morrow,” and she 
sighed deeply, “ to-morrow I shall have overcome all 
this.” 

Marguerite laid her curly head on her sister’s breast, 
and they clung to one another in silence. 

Finally Elfriede said, with trembling voice: “Tell 
me, would you forgive me if I destroyed your happy 
anticipations ? Would you be angry with me if I 
refused to marry the Baron von Hardenegg?” 

Marguerite did not answer immediately. She had . 
not learned to equivocate yet, and, above all, to her 
sister. 

“Angry?” she said at last. “No, Elfriede, I should 
certainly never be angry with you, for I know you are 
wiser and better, than any of us, and will always do 
what is right, but it would make me sad — very sad, on 
my father’s account and a little on my own, too. What 
he says of our future, if you should marry this aristo- 
cratic officer, is certainly very grand. But what is 
it, Elfriede * Have I hurt you — I believe you are cry- 
ing !” 

The hot drops were falling on Marguerite’s cheeks as 
she kneeled before her sister. She wiped them away 
and kissed Elfriede gently. The elder sister permitted 
her caresses for a time, but she was very weary and 
finally pushed the young girl from her with kind firm- 
ness. 

“ Now go to your rest,” she said ; “ we shall both per- 
haps have regained our strength and cheerfulness by 
morning.” 

Soon all had become quiet in the little sleeping-room ; 
only the pale stars peeping in through the curtains 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


77 


could tell whether Elfriede’s eyes had closed in peaceful 
slumber or not. 


It was a dreary, melancholy day of rain in the old 
city. The little birds, whose nests were in the branches 
of the broad chestnut trees in front of the sisters’ 
window, had sounded no morning greeting. They 
crouched submissively with wet plumage under the 
sparkling foliage, but their bright little eyes said, hope- 
fully : “ The sun is not dead ; he will conquer in the 
end.” 

Elfriede had arisen early, had dressed noiselessly and 
had slipped softly from the room without disturbing her 
sister. The struggle within herself for the last few 
hours had left its mark upon her face. Since the night 
her mother died, no other had been so fraught with sor- 
row as the one just passed. Her cheeks were drawn 
and her eyes were dull and heavy. But her usual calm 
manner had returned to her. After a hard battle she 
had at length come to a definite conclusion, and she 
would not hesitate to put it into immediate execu- 
tion. 

All was quiet in the little home ; it was too early for 
her to fear an interruption from her father or brother. 
So she sat down at the writing table and began a letter 
to John Werner. He it was from whom she expected 
deliverance from this painful dilemma into which her 
father’s unexpected communication had cost. 

The step upon which she had decided, she would, 
within the next twenty-four hours, see was unheard of and 
impossible. For the moment, however, she saw no other 
way out of her trouble but to appeal to Werner to save 
her. She had thought it all over from every point and 


78 THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 

had finally determined that she was not strong enough 
to make this sacrifice which her father and sister 
expected from her. She would willingly and joyfully 
have renounced every hope of happiness for their sake, 
would have given her last drop of blood for their com- 
fort and well-being ; but she shrank from the terrible 
thought of giving herself to a man whom she could 
never love, and of living a lie her whole life long. She 
felt she was unequal to such a task, and she did not 
think she was to blame ; but she also felt that her 
father, who would never be able to appreciate her rea- 
sons, would always regard her from his heart as an 
ungrateful and undutiful child. She knew him well 
enough to be sure that this supposed want of affection 
would make him more unhappy than the renunciation 
of his anticipated splendor, and from this sad possi- 
bility she hoped she would at least be able to protect 
him. She would go to him with the declaration that 
she could not become the wife of Baron von Hardenegg, 
for she loved John Werner and had already promised 
him, and she had no doubt that after the first painful 
awakening from this dream of future greatness which 
possessed his imagination, when he fully understood her 
reason for declining so brilliant an alliance, he would, 
sooner or later, view the thing in a different light and 
become fully reconciled. 

And Werner ? Of his deep and sincere love for her 
she had no doubt ; and she returned that love with all 
the intensity of her nature ; the bitterness of last night’s 
struggle had made that plain to her. It was no hope 
of a speedy union which determined her now to 
confess to him her love ; she did not solace herself with 
any such deceitful dream. Even though John had not 
told her that it would be years before a wife could 
light the fire on his hearth, she was resolved to remain 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


79 


with her father as long as he needed her. Her hopes — 
that she knew — must ever lie in the distant future, and 
it might so happen that their marriage day would never 
come ; but for such renunciation she felt she would have 
strength enough, for the thought of it had long been 
familiar to her. 

And so in this letter she laid her soul bare before this 
man. She suppressed nothing, but told him plainly why 
at this moment she was willing to accept his offer. As 
she wrote the color came back to her cheeks and her 
heart seemed to free itself from a heavy, grinding load. 

The letter was nearly finished when she heard a knock, 
and immediately after the old servant entered with a 
letter, which she handed to Elfriede saying it had just 
been left for her. The address was written in a bold, 
manly hand. 

“From John,” said Elfriede, and her face brightened 
with joy, as she quickly tore the envelope and read : 

“ My Dear Elfriede : 

“Do not be angry with me, 
if I address you as I have, perhaps, no right to do. 
But you know how dear you are to me, and you have 
not taken from me the right to consider myself your 
friend. It is only as a friend, an earnest friend, that I 
speak to you at this time. Will you grant me a friendly 
hearing before our long separation, which will in all 
human probability be a parting for ever ? All my 
foolish hopes, and the expression I gave to them in your 
presence, your good heart has already forgiven. And I 
will venture to say that until last night, notwithstanding 
your rejection of me, I should have had the courage to 
struggle on, believing that under other circumstances 
you might have been my own, true love. But now the 
support of my self-love is broken. After an hour of 


80 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


deep reflection, I have come to a right understanding of 
the noble reasons which have actuated your course, and 
the sacred duty which I have to fulfill has grown clearer 
to me. Your love for your father is for you a higher 
law than the hope of earthly joy, and I should indeed be 
an unworthy laborer in my master’s field, if I was not 
fully and deeply convinced that your clear perceptions 
have guided you aright. For your unselfish fulfillment 
of every duty you will at some future day receive your 
great reward, even if the happiness of love such as exists 
between man and wife is denied you. No man could 
hope to win either your affection or your esteem, who 
sought to make you waver or urged you to turn from 
your path. That this path will be both steep and thorny 
for a long time, you well know. But you are strong 
and courageous and'will conquer your temptations. My 
prayers and my blessings shall go with you to the end. 
Your father told me last evening of the great change 
which would come into his life if you accepted a rich 
and aristocratic suitor. He was not certain of your con- 
sent, but the thought that you would not give it was 
with him beyond the range of possibilities. And now, 
as I view your yesterday’s answer to me in its right 
light, I have no doubt but that you will consent. Upon 
a foundation of esteem and thankfulness you will help 
your husband to erect the structure of contentment and 
happiness for which he longs. And if a friend’s bless- 
ing will assist you in this effort, receive mine in all 
kindness. I could have found time to say this face to 
face, but we poor, human creatures are, in spite of our 
good resolutions, ofttimes weaker than we, or our friends, 
or the world in general suppose. Therefore, I must rest 
satisfied with this written farewell, for in this way it is 
certain that no hateful dissonance, no echo of van- 
quished folly, will disturb our parting. If at any future 



HERR KOSTOMAROW PLAYING HIS VIOLIN. — See Page 84 , 




























































































THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


81 


time we meet, by God’s decree, we can look one another 
in the eye with clear consciences. I send you a hearty 
greeting and a warm farewell to all. Think kindly in 
your quiet hours of 

“ John Werner.” 

Slowly Elfriede folded the pages of the letter. Her 
face had again assumed that rigidity of expression which 
had been so noticeable the evening before, as if the 
unexpected had again overtaken her. Her fate and her 
future were decided. There was now no uncertainty as 
to her future course. She struck a light and burned the 
letter which she had just written until only its ashes 
were left. Werner’s letter she hid in her bosom. 

The faint odor from the burnt paper had hardly blown 
from the room when the studio door opened and 
Balthasar Stiller stood upon the threshold. He looked 
like a man who had taken little rest on his hard couch, 
and had awakened frequently from sad and distressing 
dreams. When Elfriede caught sight of his figure, still 
clad in the garments he had worn last evening, his hair 
in confusion, and his pale, distressed face looking out 
from under his disordered locks, she was almost angry 
with herself for having added an iota to his troubles, 
and she hastened to him with loving embrace and greet- 
ing. 

“ Good-morning, father. I do believe you didn’t go 
to bed last night, and perhaps it was on my account. I 
acted so badly and you are angry with me, are you not ?” 

The old painter smiled and stroked his gray beard. 

“ You can appease my wrath very easily, my child ; 
and how willingly would I forget this detestable night, 
if — ” 

“ If I should tell you that I have been foolish and that 


82 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


I will thankfully accept your decision for my future ? 
Is that it, my dear father ?” 

“ Well, yes, you weather-vane, what else could it be ? 
But are you really in earnest ?” 

She laid her pale face on his shoulder, so that he could 
not look her in the eye, and whispered, indistinctly : 
“Yes, father, I am in earnest.” 

There was much rejoicing from the old man now, but 
his boisterous hilarity was not shared by the others. 
Marguerite had not felt comfortable over her sister’s 
decision, remembering their conversation of the past 
night ; but she lacked courage as she glanced at Elfriede’s 
pale face to seek again for her confidence. Ewald, who 
yet carried his wounded arm in a sling, sat silent at the 
breakfast table and learned the news for the first time 
from his father’s garrulous talk. He pressed his lips 
together and his dark eyes looked reprovingly and ques- 
tioningly at Elfriede. About nine o’clock he took up his 
books to go as usual to the gymnasium, but he lingered 
a moment in the hall until his sister, as he had expected, 
joined him, when he asked her in a hasty whisper, “ Is it 
true, Elfriede ? Have you really decided to marry this 
— this officer?” 

“ You have said it, Ewald ! It is my father’s wish 
and will be best for us all.” 

“ But you do not love him — you could never care for 
him. He is arrogant and bad. Even if he is friendly 
and agreeable now, yet at bottom he looks down 
upon us with contempt.” 

“ How can you come to such a conclusion ? You are 
too young to judge of such serious things.” 

“And this is your fixed determination ?” 

“Certainly, and it will be well for you to become 
reconciled as soon as possible to the inevitable.” 

“ I ? Never — never ! Before I’ll sit at the same table 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


83 


with that officer of dragoons with his air of condescension 
as if he knew he was our benefactor, I’ll leave home and 
make my own way in the world.” 

The approach of their father prevented Elfriede’s 
answering the boy. Ewald hurried off, but he did not 
go in the direction which led toward his school. Indiffer- 
ent as to his promise and careless as to whether he was 
seen or not from his father’s windows, he crossed the 
street and disappeared within the doorway leading to 
Kostomarow’s quarters. His heart was beating vio- 
lently and his cheeks were feverishly red, as he stood 
before the Russian’s door. The well-known strains 
from the violin came out to greet him, and he stood 
quiet for a little while, in order not to disturb the 
player. But Kostomarow’s phantasies had no end, so 
that at last Ewald, after knocking repeatedly, cautiously 
opened the door. 

Had not his passion for music long since overcome all 
feelings of timidity respecting the old man’s personality, 
his appearance at this moment would have inspired the 
boy with terror. Kostomarow’s surroundings were just 
as fantastic and unearthly as was his appearance. One 
might have thought himself in a library, had not the 
poor, iron bedstead and the washstand in the corner 
made it clear that the four bare walls of the room were 
the boundaries of the old man’s world ; no carpet cov- 
ered the floor, there was no easy chair, no mirror, no 
picture or other ornament to please the eye of the inmate, 
nothing but the high book-shelves filled to overflowing 
with books, while the floor and the few chairs were cov- 
ered with a confusion of papers and notes, the curtains 
were drawn closely before the windows and the light 
which forced itself in this rainy morning was dim, gray 
and cold. And the sovereign of this queer little world 
in his long, dark, Turkish robe, with his disordered hair 


84 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


and long gray beard looked exactly like a magician at 
whose bidding devils appear and men are turned to 
stone. Although he had turned his head a little when 
Ewald entered, he continued playing for some time as 
though he took delight in the youth’s wrapt attention. 

It was indeed a rare pleasure to listen to him. In the 
whole city and far beyond its walls, there was no master 
like him, and no instrument which could be compared 
with his. Ewald knew that the little unassuming violin 
was a genuine Stradivarius, and he looked upon it with 
admiring reverence. Even Kostomarow handled his 
treasure with a care which was not in keeping with his 
usual negligence regarding his possessions. When he 
had ended his playing, he wiped it carefully with a silk 
cloth and then laid it in a costly, richly inlaid case. 
Then he greeted his visitor, who still stood by the door, 
rather roughly. 

“ What brings you here? Didn’t you promise to 
avoid my domicile ?” 

“Yes, Herr Kostomarow! But I cannot keep that 
promise. Something extraordinary has happened to us.” 

“ Something extraordinary — indeed ! Has your father 
had a fit ? Or has your sister Elfriede eloped ?” 

“ No ? But she is betrothed.” 

“ And you call that something extraordinary, you 
idiot ? That appears to me the most natural thing in 
the world. And who is the lucky man ? The lank 
preacher by whom you set such store ?” 

“ Oh, if it were he, I would certainly maEe no moan. 
But she has otherwise decided ; she is to become the 
wife of Baron von Hardenegg.” 

Kostomarow looked astonished. 

“Is it possible ! He has made her an offer of marriage?” 

“Yes, and he will be so condescending as to take us 
all to his castle ; I believe he calls it Buchwald.” 


THE BBEACH OF CUSTOM. 


85 


“Truly, that’s the best of all! And why the devil 
have you such a troubled face ?” 

Ewald looked hurt and showed it. For the first time 
he was out of humor with his patron. 

“ It’s no laughing matter to me, Herr Kostomarow. 
I cannot accept benefits from a man whom I hate from 
the bottom of my heart. I will not be dependent on him 
— no, I will beg first.” 

His listener did not answer immediately. He began 
pacing the room, and kicking aside all books or papers 
which lay in his way. Two or three times he muttered 
half aloud some unintelligible words, then he turned 
suddenly upon Ewald and gave him a piercing glance, 
as though he would look into his very soul.” 

“ Has your sister accepted him of her own free will, 
or has she been forced into it ?” 

“ Who is there to force her ? Not my father, for she 
is the apple of his eye, and he would do nothing to bring 
her misery.” 

“Very well, she has brought her fate upon herself. I 
will not prevent him marrying her — no, I will not !” 

“ What could you possibly do, Herr Kostomarow ?” 

“ Do not question about that which does not concern 
you. What have you decided to do ?” 

“ I do not know. But on the day when this marriage 
takes place, I shall start out for myself.” 

“ Good, good ; you are right. Your honor must be 
free from any tarnish. You must not owe it to stolen 
money. But if you have the courage to fly on the wed- 
ding-day, why not go earlier — why not to-day ?” 

“ Herr Kostomarow, if I rightly understand you — ” 

“ Yes, you understand me well enough. I have a 
journey to take which I must begin to-day. Where it 
will end I do not know, and I doubt if I shall ever return 


86 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


here. I am ready to take you with me, and to provide 
for your musical education, as well as your temporal 
needs until you can take care of yourself.” 

“ Oh, Herr Kostomarow, how thankful — ” 

“Wait! Spare your protestations until you have 
heard me out. I do not do this from any insipid feeling 
of good nature, but because I think I can make out of 
you an artist, a great artist. The stake is, for one in my 
circumstances, not inconsiderable, and I will not be 
tricked out of my profits. I state my terms and their 
purport in few words : Absolute obedience, perfect 
honesty and untiring industry ! Moreover, you are to 
reimburse me for every penny I spend upon you, as soon 
as you are in circumstances to do so. This is all I have 
to say on the subject. Do not answer me now. A hasty 
answer is worse than none. This is a question for you 
of more importance than a pleasure trip or a little 
adventure. Now go home or go to school, and come to 
me at my dinner hour, three o’clock, with your decision. 
Go ! I won’t hear a word now !” 

He dismissed him with a motion and limped over to 
one of the book cases. Ewald did not dare to speak, 
although he knew his answer at three o’clock would be 
the same as if given at that moment. 

“I will come, Herr Kostomarow,” was all he said. 
Then he left the house and went down the street as one 
in a dream. 

That afternoon there was a heavy step on the old, 
creaking stairs leading to Herr Stiller’s apartment, and 
a sound of jangling spurs and of a clanking sabre. Kurt 
von Hardenegg came to-day for the first time in his 
uniform, and as Balthasar Stiller opened the door to 
meet him, his heart filled with pride and admiration at 
the sight of this handsome, aristocratic man, with whom 
he was soon to be so closely connected. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


87 


“We have been waiting for you, dear son,” he said, 
“ but that does not matter. You have come, and that is 
the main thing.” 

“ And I hope I am not unwelcome, Herr Stiller ?” 

The painter laughed, but in an embarrassed manner. 

“ How could that be possible ? But be good enough 
to enter. I will call Elfriede immediately.” 

He found his daughter sitting at her window lost in 
thought, but as he noted the expression of pain in her 
eyes, he became again possessed of a deadly fear. Half 
aloud he spoke her name, and a heavy burden lifted 
itself from his heart, as she turned to him with a friendly 
smile, and did not hesitate, when he told her of the 
Baron’s arrival, to prepare to follow him. 

“You can call me, child, when you want my com- 
pany.” With this rather forced expression, which he 
strove to make jocular, the father turned back. He was 
not quite comfortable about this first love meeting, 
which he could scarcely believe would be altogether a 
success, and with an anxious feeling he left them alone. 

There was nothing sentimental nor tragic in this 
lover’s meeting. Hardenegg stepped forward to meet 
Elfriede when she entered, and said, with the versatility 
of a man of the world, whom nothing embarrasses : 
“After the reception which your father has just given 
me, may I hope that he has communicated to you our 
conversation of yesterday, and that you will not refuse 
me my heart’s desire ? With your permission, I will 
repeat what — ” 

Elfriede made a slight movement which commanded 
him to pause. 

“ There is no necessity, Herr von Hardenegg. I am 
convinced of the sincerity of your friendly disposition 
towards myself, and thank you from my heart for the 
honor which you have done me. But I scarcely know 


88 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


whether I am right or not in accepting it. The differ- 
ence between our worldly stations is very great, and — ” 

This time it was Kurt who interrupted her. 

“Surely this imaginary difference need not be con- 
sidered, where love exists between two hearts. Rest 
assured, my dear Elfriedc, that as my wife, you will be 
protected from all that which, even in your thoughts, 
could ever annoy you.” 

“And you yourself, Herr von Hardenegg? Our 
acquaintance is a very short one. Are you sure that you 
will not sooner or later consider this step a rash one, 
and that you will not live to rue what you now do ?” 

“You evidently have very little confidence in me, if 
you can look forward to such a possibility. No, as warm 
and true as is my love for you in this hour, so will it 
ever remain strong and unalterable. Even the thought 
that at any time my happiness in possessing you will be 
turned to regret is almost insulting. Why should we 
disturb the happiness of the present moment by such 
doubts and apprehensions ? Let me have an assurance 
of my good fortune from your own lips ; give me but 
one precious word that you will be mine, and drown all 
depressing thoughts in the ocean of our love.” 

His eloquence had to Elfriede’s fine perceptions a 
declamatory sound, and she was repelled by it. But she 
had entered the room with a fixed determination and 
she was strong enough to adhere to it faithfully. As 
Hardenegg came near her and whispered, tenderly : “A 
single word, beloved one, just one word for my ear 
alone !” she could only give him the one word, “ Yes.” 
Even as she spoke that word her voice trembled and 
she felt her heart flutter strangely. With closed eyes 
she submitted to his embrace as he pressed an 
impassioned kiss on her pale lips. 

Then she released herself from him and said : “ We will 


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89 


call my father, there is no longer any reason why he 
should not be with us.” 

She took it for granted that he would wish it and 
opened the door. Balthasar Stiller glanced quickly 
from one to the other, and when he noticed no grounds 
for his apprehensions his cheerful humor returned to 
him. 

Hardenegg was bright and conversational, and 
demeaned himself as a fortunate suitor should do. He 
checked the painter’s demonstrative familiarity with a 
tact which was not entirely the result of his aristocratic 
rearing. While apparently assuming a confidential tone 
with the old man, he was at the same time erecting an 
invisible barrier between them of whose existence 
Elfriede was soon as well aware as he himself. Mar- 
guerite was too young and too full of life to be for long 
depressed over the past evening’s events. Hardenegg’s 
graphic description of the castle of Buchwald and its 
romantic surroundings threw her into ecstacies, and it 
was not long before she assumed a bantering tone 
toward her future brother which seemed to please him 
as well as the merry girl, and augured well for their 
friendly relations in the future. 

Ewald’s long absence had scarcely been noticed. 
But now Elfriede glanced frequently and with growing 
uneasiness toward the door. Already the evening was 
drawing on, and remembering their last words in the 
morning, she felt that, under the circumstances, she had 
cause for deep anxiety. 

At last she went to his room, hoping he might be 
there, but she shrank back alarmed when she saw the 
confusion in which it lay. His books, linen and various 
garments were thrown about in disorder as if he had 
made a hasty selection of those he most needed, and 
Elfriede saw in an instant that the various trifles which 


90 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


he most highly prized had been taken from their wonted 
places. When she approached his little table she saw a 
letter lying on it addressed to his father. Now she 
knew that she had not been alarmed without reason, 
and that this hasty boy had carried out his foolish 
notion. But not a moment was to be lost, and no con- 
sideration for their guest’s presence must keep her silent 
regarding her brother’s fate. She called her father to 
her and told him in a few words her fears and then 
handed him the letter. A flush of anger overspread his 
face even to his temples as he read in a loud voice the 
contents of the short letter : 

“Dear Father and Dear Sisters : 

“I cannot endure 
the thought of living on the charity of a strange, arro- 
gant man, and so I shall not remain with you any longer 
for I should be forced to tolerate Baron von Hardenegg, 
whom I hate. I am going away with Herr Kosto- 
marow, and by the time this reaches you I shall have 
already left the city. He will make a musician of me, 
and so fulfill my dearest wish. Under his protection I 
shall be well cared for, for he is not, as you think, a bad 
man, but disinterested and noble. 

“ If it be possible, dear father, forgive me for what I 
have this day done. I know I am not doing right, but 
God knows, I cannot do otherwise. Perhaps you will 
recognize later on, that with my aversion for this officer, 
no other course was open to me, and you will then 
grant me forgiveness. 

“ Your true and loving son, 

“ Ewald.” 

“ Has the boy gone mad ?” railed the painter, and 
before Elfriede could prevent him he had rushed back 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


91 


into the other room. “ Have I not often said that that 
cursed, limping devil across there would some day 
entice him on to destruction ?” cried he, in a fury. 
“ Now the business is done, and I have one child the 
less.” 

Hardenegg looked up quickly. 

“Your son has not gone off with this Kostomarow ?” 
he asked, hurriedly. 

“ Yes, that’s just what he has done ! May the devil 
take his wretched seducer !” 

The officer had already risen. 

“ Since when have you missed your son ?” 

“ He must have been in his room a few hours ago to 
write this senseless letter.” 

“ Good ! In any case he can’t have gotten very far 
yet. I beg you to excuse me and I promise you I’ll 
Have your son with you again in a few hours.” 

Balthasar Stiller stepped in his way with something 
more than his usual decision. 

“ Hold, my dear Hardenegg — not a step, I must beg. 
That undutiful youth shall cross my threshold no more. 
I will tear him from my heart as I tear this miserable 
letter !” 

He flung the bits of paper on the ground and tram- 
pled them with his feet. He must have been struck to 
the very heart to have so entirely lost his usual 
good-nature. Elfriede laid her hand appeasingly on 
his shoulder and Hardenegg spoke impressively to 
him. 

“ You are on the point of committing an error, Herr 
Stiller,” he said, earnestly. “ No matter how much you 
may desire to punish your son’s youthful follies, he 
must at least be rescued from the dangers of such com- 
panionship as Kostomarow. It is absolutely necessary 
to bring him back.” 


92 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


But Balthasar shook his lion’s mane with uncomprom- 
ising doggedness. 

“ No, no, ever and always no ! Do not waste your 
time trying to persuade me, for it would be in vain. He 
has betrayed all my care and all my devotion for the 
sake of this wild, strange fool ; now let him look to it, 
how he comes on with this same fool.” 

“ But this Russian is something worse than a fool, he 
is a criminal.” 

The painter started involuntarily, and his brow 
became darker. 

“ How do you know that ? Have you ever made his 
acquaintance ?” 

Hardenegg hesitated. He had some thought of invent- 
ing 'a tale regarding Kostomarow’s visit to the hotel, 
but he concluded it would be better to avoid the 
many questions which such a statement would bring 
forth. 

“ No,” he said, “ I have only heard some reports which 
were circulated in regard to his past, and you yourself, 
my dear sir, have inferred something of the same sort, 
/X from the man’s repulsive appearance.” 

“Well, it’s all of a piece. Perhaps he'll make a 
criminal out of my Ewald when he gets ready. Perhaps 
my discipline was too strict for the wayward boy, and 
now he may be his own master. I have no interest in 
him further, and no share in his future, whatever it may 
be. It will be the same as though I had never had a 
son.” 

And he remained dumb to all appeals and prayers. 
And when Hardenegg, notwithstanding, said he would 
have the boy brought back on his own responsibility, 
he was almost told in plain words that he was not 
expected to mix in their home affairs. 

“You would not help him by bringing him home,” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


93 


Stiller said, “for there is no longer any place for him 
here, and I don’t know, under the circumstances, what 
would become of him. No man in the world, my dear 
son, has less reason for conferring any benefit on the 
boy. He deserves nothing at your hands.” 

Only Elfriede’s pleading glances prevented him from 
revealing more ; but nothing they could say altered his 
fixed resolution. A dark, portentous cloud hung over 
the little circle ; the conversation, which had before been 
bright and cheerful, now dragged wearily, and even the 
evening meal, for which Balthasar Stiller had made extra 
preparations on account of their guest, was forgotten 
and left untasted. 

Hardenegg left them earlier than he would otherwise 
have done, for he saw it would be useless to hope to see 
Elfriede alone on that night. His heart was filled 
with conflicting emotions as he left the old house ; 
but these emotions were ultimately forgotten in the 
one thought : “ No matter how uncomfortable the old 
man may be, the extraordinary beauty of the daughter 
outweighs all his mistakes and follies, and this beauty 
belongs to me, and no one shall enjoy it but me.” 

Truly, the prospect of such happiness was worth even 
greater sacrifices ! 


94 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


CHAPTER VI. 

The day on which Kostomarow and his protege 
started they traveled only about eleven miles. During 
the short railway journey the taciturn old man had said 
nothing regarding their destination, and Ewald was not 
in the humor to question or talk. But he was astonished 
when Kostomarow got out at a little, insignificant sta- 
tion even the name of which Ewald had never heard. 
They took up their quarters at the little inn whose 
accommodations were such as might be expected in a 
dull, country town. As they entered the room which 
had been assigned to them, Kostomarow said : “ We 

shall probably remain here for several days, and as I 
have various matters about which to inquire, I will not, 
of course, be able to take you with me every where, and 
you must amuse yourself for the time being, as best you 
can.” 

He ordered a simple evening meal to be brought to 
them, and made some inquiries in his usual manner from 
the maid who waited upon them. He asked the where- 
abouts of many persons who he supposed lived in the 
village or in the neighborhood. Of many for whom he 
inquired, the servant had never heard ; several names 
were known to her by hearsay, but those who had borne 
them had long since died. After a time Kostomarow 
dismissed her impatiently, and she needed no second bid- 
ding, for she evidently regarded the white-haired old man 
as a kind of spectre. After the short meal was ended, 
the Russian limped to the window, and pointed to a 
rambling building of stone, which stood on rising ground 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


95 


not far distant, and whose outlines were definitely 
marked in the gathering twilight. 

“ That building, which you see yonder, is an old Cis- 
tercian Monastery,” he said. “ It is falling into decay ; 
for over a hundred years a small portion of it has been 
used as a poor-house. But I’d advise you to wander over 
it to-morrow. The chapel is well worth visiting with its 
inscriptions and Latin epitaphs ; you will not find many 
in existence like it, and will feel well repaid for spend- 
ing your day there. I shall expect you to give me a 
detailed account of it all to-morrow evening.” 

“You seem to know this old town pretty well, Herr 
Kostomarow. Perhaps you lived here at some former 
time ?” 

“ No ! And you had better understand, once for all, 
that I do not care to have any questions asked regarding 
myself or my past life. What is well for you to know I 
will tell you sooner or later, and now it’s time for us to 
go to bed.” 

Ewald mounted the old Abbey stairs the next day, and 
was deeply impressed with the noble simplicity of the 
old stone buildings, which would at one time have wear- 
ied him to death, but now, in his present humor, had an 
elevating and inspiring effect. Here he found comfort 
and consolation for all the doubts and torturing sensa- 
tions which had, naturally enough, disturbed him on the 
first day of his flight from his father’s house ; and Kos- 
tomarow seemed well satisfied with him, when he, in the 
evening, told of all that had attracted his attention dur- 
ing the day. 

“ You have now had time and opportunity to consider 
your yesterday’s decision,” he said, /watching the boy 
sharply. “ If you regret it, it is yet possible for you to 
return. Tell me frankly and honestly what is your 
determination.” 


96 


THE BREA.CH OF CUSTOM. 


Ewald met the old man’s glance unhesitatingly. 

“ I will remain with you, Herr Kostomarow,” he 
replied, and the old Russian nodded his head and the 
matter was settled. 

The following morning was again bright and sunny, 
and Ewald would have been well pleased to spend it as 
he had spent yesterday, in the old Cistercian Cloister, 
but Kostomarow had other plans, and other surprises in 
store. Before the door stood a light carriage and 
horses, and he told his protege to prepare for a ride. 
“As we drive across the country,” he said, “keep your 
eyes open ; but don’t talk much. I am not in a gossip- 
ing mood to-day.” 

And now they went at a quick pace across the market 
space and out of the village. The country round about 
was a very beautiful one, dotted here and there with 
fruitful orchards, and Ewald was so delighted with the 
charming prospect that he felt it no hardship to refrain 
from conversation, as he had been bidden. Indeed, he 
had never known the old musician to be as silent as he 
was to-day. He sat with his powerful figure all sunk 
together, and with his withered hands clasped tightly 
over his crutches ; they trembled often as though a 
shudder convulsed his whole body. Then he would 
cast his deep, flashing eyes over the ever-changing land- 
scape, and mutter now and then broken vehement 
words, which Ewald did not understand, and whose 
meaning he dared not venture to ask. 

The longer their ride the greater became Kostomarow’s 
inward excitement. As they passed a sudden, sharp 
turn in the road he straightened himself and sitting 
erect called to the coachman in a hoarse voice to halt. 
The road here became steep and from their position 
they could command a fine view of the surrounding 
country. At their feet lay a valley whose picturesque 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


97 


loveliness drew from Ewald an involuntary cry of joyous 
admiration. 

Fields of waving grain and fresh, green meadows 
covered the sloping land, while back of them the thick 
forest with its depth of green foliage stretched as far 
as the eye could reach. Just at the edge of the woods 
were scattered the steep, red-roofed houses of a village 
with a high church tower rising in their midst. On a 
height to their right arose a stately, gothic pile, whose 
towers and battlements and many windows glistened in 
the sunlight. It looked in the midst of this luxurious 
region a princely palace indeed. 

Ewald would have asked a question or two now, but 
he stopped short as his eye fell on Kostomarow. Some- 
thing singular must have occurred, to judge from the old 
man’s bearing. He spread out his arms as though 
something unseen was pressing against his breast ; then 
he distorted his features into a wild grimace, and as he 
glanced in the direction of the castle he shook his 
clenched fist and gave vent to many gutteral mutter- 
ings which had the sound of inward laughter but were 
altogether uncanny, and gave an impression of uncon- 
trollable anger. The coachman shook his head mean- 
while with an anxious expression ; he was convinced that 
he was driving a mad-man, and no one could have 
blamed him for the suspicion. 

After a short lapse of time Kostomarow seemed to be 
his old self again. As quickly as his lame leg would 
permit he clambered down from the carriage, and 
motioned to Ewald to follow his example. 

“ If you drive for fifteen minutes you will come to an 
old inn,” he said to the coachman, “ and you can wait 
for us there. I don’t think we shall be away over two 
or three hours.” 


98 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


As the carriage rolled' away he turned toward 
Ewald. 

“ Neither do I want your company, my boy. So you 
can roam around at your pleasure — if you are at the 
inn three hours from now it will be time enough ; you 
can’t miss it, for it lies straight ahead and has the sign 
of a red-brown lion hanging out on a shield.” 

He reached out his hand to him, and then struck off 
in a path that led down the valley. He had scarcely 
gone a dozen steps, however, when he turned around to 
Ewald. “ No matter which way you go, do not go near 
that castle which lies yonder. I forbid it expressly — 
do you hear ?” 

Ewald’s respect for Kostomarow was too sincere, and 
his reliance in him too great for him to be astonished at 
his eccentricities or unwilling to obey any injunction of 
his. The order which he had just received, but did not 
comprehend, he obeyed without a murmur. As the 
limping figure of the old man disappeared, he took a 
narrow path across the meadows in the direction of the 
red roofs of the village. The gentle breeze was cool 
and invigorating, and he took in deep draughts as he 
walked along. The deep stillness which surrounded 
him — broken only now and then by the bark of a village 
dog in the distance — seemed to heighten within him the 
charm of unbroken calm and peace which rested upon 
the whole region. 

He had just passed a group of gray beeches, which 
formed a corner of the wood and made a sharp turn in 
his path, when he saw that this beautiful picture of 
nature was not without its living accessories. A num- 
ber of cows were grazing in the meadow which lay 
before him, and a few village urchins, bare-headed and 
bare-footed, were varying the monotony of watching 
the herd by playing lustily their childish games. Ewald 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


99 


who to-day for the first time had taken the bandages 
from his arm, threw himself down in the high grass on 
the bank of a babbling, crystal 'stream, and gazed at 
the lovely scene around him. The hum of insects and 
the chirping of little birds in the bushes had a soothing 
influence and gradually the youth’s head sank lower 
and lower, and in a few moments he was in dreamland 
with all its fantastic belongings. 

Soon, however, he was rudely recalled to the realities 
of this world, and in a manner which filled him with 
horror and alarm. Loud and terrified cries from the 
playing children awakened him from his light slum- 
ber. He saw them running in all directions and each 
one striving, with his whole strength, to gain some 
point of safety. The cause of all this commotion was 
not long hidden from him, for an infuriated bull came 
stampeding over the meadow, with glaring eye and 
angry roar and head down. 

For the moment Ewald felt no fear, for the animal 
was not running in his direction, and even if he did 
come his way the little stream lay between them. 
But the boy did not think of himself at all at this 
moment. Not all the children had been able to reach 
places of safety, and his heart beat with fear, for from 
the meadow there came the heartrending cries of a 
child who was creeping along, hoping to reach a place 
of safety, before the animal noticed him. 

The child was a little boy about ten years of age, and 
he was crawling towards a mound where lay the little 
crutches which an ill-natured playmate had taken from 
him. The distance was diminishing between him and 
the animal, and Ewald saw with horror that there was 
no living creature near to help the little cripple. He 
felt how little use he was with his arm still weak, and a 
hundred adventurous thoughts passed through his mind 


100 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


in a second ; he had read in some child’s book that a 
cloth thrown over the bull’s head would change its 
course — and without stopping to think of the danger 
involved in such a venture, or the skill required to make 
the throw, he rose and grasping his plaid upon which he 
had been lying, dashed through the brook, the water of 
which came to his knees, and started to head off the mad 
beast in its course. The bull seemed to surmise some- 
thing of the sort for he deviated slightly from his course 
and came direct towards the new comer. There could 
be little doubt as to the result of this meeting, and Ewald 
knew now he would be the victim. He could hear the 
breathing of the terrible beast, and the arm which he 
held up with the cloth fell nerveless by his side and an 
uncontrollable desire came over him to close his eyes. 
Already he felt the great horns piercing his body — when 
from the wood came the sharp report of a rifle, followed 
by a terrific roar from the bull. Ewald saw to his aston- 
ishment that the powerful beast, scarcely five steps from 
him, had sunk on his knees ; evidently the shot had 
struck his leg. But the danger did not seem over, it 
was only averted for the instant. For with desperate 
effort the wounded animal again rose to its feet. A 
second shot sounded and this time a vital part was 
struck, instantly the great body trembled and writhed, 
and a second later fell with a heavy thud to the ground. 

The danger was over ! 

Ewald turned hastily away from the tortuous spectacle, 
overpowered by the sense of the danger from which he 
had just escaped. His limbs trembled and his feet 
almost refused to do him service. But he forced this 
paroxysm of weakness from him and went to the 
crippled child, who was regarding him with wide open 
mouth and staring eyes, as if he were a being from 
another sphere. He vouchsafed no answer to Ewald’s 


THE BKEACH OF CUSTOM. 


101 


sympathizing question, but as soon as he was assisted 
to his feet and his crutches handed him, he limped off as 
rapidly as his infirmity permitted. Ewald looked com- 
passionately after the poor boy, but as he turned around 
he was surprised out of all self-command. 

As if by magic, a young girl stood on the sward not 
far from him ; her nut-brown hair was flying around her 
shoulders, and under her arm she carried, after the 
manner of a sportsman, a double-barreled gun. In his 
confusion he made a quick motion to remove his hat, 
although it had fallen from his head when he started to 
run, and this movement, together with the perplexed 
expression on his face when he discovered he was hat- 
less, amused the young girl greatly, and she burst out 
into a hearty laugh. 

“ Do not be angry with me, but you did look so com- 
ical,” sounded a clear, childish and musical voice. “ One 
who can venture to overcome a wild ox with a shawl, 
should not show such fright at the sight of a harmless 
girl.” 

Such a familiar speech was a means well calculated 
to dispel the young man’s embarrassment and give back 
to him his wonted self-composure. He summoned 
enough courage to answer her playful words in a jesting 
tone. 

“ Permit me in my own defence to explain that a wild 
ox is a much more usual sight than a maiden with a 
gun. ” 

“ Ah — is that it ! You are very ungrateful, sir, for 
truly, I would not like to think how it would have been 
with you now, if I had not had this weapon.” 

“ Is it possible that it was you who fired the two shots 
which saved me ?” 

“ Certainly it was I ! Is that so very wonderful ? 
After six years practice, one should be able to do some- 


102 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


thing better than shoot at the empty air, and it was cer- 
tainly a lucky shot I made to-day.” 

Ewald’s cheeks burned with a deep glow. 

“ You have saved my life, and I do not know how I 
can thank you.” 

The young gunner laughed and shook back her lovely 
hair. 

“ On my account, we will say nothing about that. 
You have reason to be grateful to fate’s intervention as 
well as to me. But how in the world did it happen that 
you were just in the animal’s way ?” 

Ewald told her in a few words how it had all hap- 
pened, and when he had finished, she said, with much 
warmth in her tones : “That was very brave of you, but 
if I had not been out with the forester you would have 
paid dearly for your noble disregard of self. For your 
plaid would have been to no purpose, though that’s all 
well enough to read to children. Perhaps you think I 
wander through the woods in order to hunt bears or 
kill robbers with this gun. But it is not my gun at all, 
and I just snatched it from the forester here, and it 
doesn’t even belong to him. He had just returned with 
it from a deer shooting, and as I love sport I had been 
listening to his account of the hunt when we heard 
cries and ran to the edge of the wood to see why the 
children were screaming so lustily. What met our 
eyes was you, close to the beast and just in his path. 
The forester is only a moderate shot and he was afraid 
to attempt it at such a distance, so I seized the gun 
from his hands and — but you know the rest.” 

She motioned to the young hunter, who stood at a 
respectful distance, and gave him back his gun. 

“ If the animal is not dead yet you had better give 
him another shot,” she said it in a friendly tone, but 
after the manner of one accustomed to obedience. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


103 


“ And you had best tell the owner, he deserves to be 
the loser by his heedlessness, but my father will make it 
all right with him.” 

While she was talking to her attendant Ewald found 
an opportunity to look at her attentively, and decided 
that he had never before seen so lovely or so graceful a 
being. She was simply attired in some soft, clinging 
material which only fell to her ankles, and wore a dark 
green jacket bound with green braid. A jaunty little 
cap with a bunch of pheasants’ feathers was set upon 
her luxurious hair. Despite the simplicity of her attire 
she had an attractive and distinguished bearing, so much 
so, that the young man, although at least two years her 
senior, looked upon her with a sentiment of mingled 
admiration and awe. 

As the forester turned away with a respectful bow to 
do her bidding, she turned again to her new acquaint- 
ance. 

“ You will catch cold,” she said, in her straightforward, 
chatty manner. “ In your anxiety to become a rescuer 
you forgot that you got a good wetting — now, I have an 
idea. Come over to the Castle yonder with me, and you 
will be able, without doubt, to change your clothing.” 

While speaking, she had pointed to the stately, gothic 
pile with the many glittering windows and the pictur- 
esque little towers, and Ewald was on the point of agree- 
ing to her proposition, when he remembered the order 
KoStomarow had given him, not to go near the Castle. 
Although the temptation was very strong he resisted it 
bravely. 

“ I fear I shall not be able to accept your kind invita- 
tion as I have an appointment which I must soon keep,” 
he answered, “and moreover wet clothes will do me no 
harm in this mild air. The sun will dry them soon 
enough.” 


104 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ Well, perhaps it is just as well. You would be over- 
whelmed with questions, and I can easily imagine you 
would not find that agreeable. But if you have an 
appointment I must not detain you longer. It’s a shame, 
too, for we could have had a nice, little chat.” 

Ewald hastened to assure her that he had plenty of 
time at his disposal yet, and he had never known a hap- 
pier moment than that in which she sank down on the 
meadow grass, and motioned to him to do the same. 

All was again still around them. The exciting event 
in which they had participated had not disturbed the 
deep peace of nature, and the insects kept up the same 
murmur, and the little birds twitted in the same minor 
key as before. 

These two young people who knew not one another’s 
names were soon chatting together as if they had been 
life-long friends. In answering the very natural ques- 
tion where he lived, and how he came into this neigh- 
borhood, Ewald felt for the moment a hesitancy, but it 
seemed to him an impossibility to be anything but hon- 
est and candid with this frank, amiable creature. So 
she soon knew his story, and did not attempt to dis- 
guise how much interest she took in all he told her. 

“ So you are a musician, too,” she said, “ and you will 
become an artist — a great artist. What a glorious aim 
you have in view. And if you achieve your purpose 
you will have justified your flight. What is your instru- 
ment ?” 

“The violin.” 

“ That is delightful ! What a shame that the legen- 
dary treasure about which old Heilmann raves every day, 
is no longer in the Castle yonder. You would have to 
come and play something for me at once.” 

“ A legendary treasure ? That has a very romantic 
sound.” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


105 


“Ah, and there is a romance about it. The treasure 
was a violin made by the great Stradivarius himself. 
It had been in the family several generations, and the 
grandfather of the present Baron was at one time offered 
by a connoisseur ten thousand thalers for it, but he 
would not part with it for any sum.” 

“ I can well believe it, for the best of those instruments 
are very valuable. But what became of this violin ? It 
was not stolen, was it ?” 

“ No, although no one knows exactly. The uncle of 
the present lord took it with him when he ran away 
from home. Neither he nor it has ever been heard of 
since, and doubtless both he and the precious violin 
have long since gone to ruin. Whenever I think of him 
this verse from Chamisso’s beautiful poem comes into 
my mind : 


“ I will steal away forever 

With my soft lute in my hand, 

To wander the wide world over, 

And sing from land to land.” 

Her voice was soft and full of feeling, and from her 
eyes shone a gleam of real sympathy. 

Ewald thought she was even more beautiful than in 
her mirthful mood. 

“What really became of this wonderful instrument 
might be a theme for a poet,” he said. “ I have had the 
good fortune to play on a genuine Stradivarius myself. 
My old teacher and benefactor is its enviable possessor.” 

“What’s your teacher’s name, and what does he look 
like ?” 

“ His name is Kostomarow, but I cannot describe his 
appearance accurately to you, and it is by no means the 


106 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


best of him. His countenance is like a death’s head, he 
limps and — ” 

“ Enough — enough!” she interrupted, laughing. “I’d 
much rather talk about you and your future. Where 
are you traveling now ?” 

“ Where ? If I but knew ! Herr Kostomarow has 
given me no hint of his future movements, and he does 
not like to have me question him.” 

“How singular! And you follow him without 
knowing what he intends to do with you ? Your trust 
in him must be very great.” 

“ Oh, it is boundless ! And you would revere him as 
deeply as I do, if you only heard him play once. When 
he takes his bow in his hand the whole depth of his 
nature is revealed.” 

He described the old man’s skill and art with enthusi- 
asm, and his young companion listened attentively, and 
asked many questions which showed how deeply 
interested she was. The fifteen minutes had long since 
taken to themselves wings, and the sun had mounted 
still higher in his heavenly path, but the two prattlers 
chatted on, forgetful of time and place. The distant 
church bell sounded the hour and the light wind carried 
its solemn tones to the heedless pair in the meadow. 
Ewald glanced at his watch and sprang up hurriedly. 
It was already time that he should be at the place 
appointed, and he had a half-hour walk before he could 
reach the inn of the “Red Lion.” He felt deeply 
dejected, and over his companion’s face, too, a shadow 
had fallen. She reached out her hands to bid him adieu, 
but still walked on by his side. 

Once again Ewald tried to stammer out some word of 
thanks, and again she silenced him with friendly 
decision. 

“I have saved your life,” she said. “That is true 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


107 


enough ; but another would have done the same under 
like circumstances. I would like you to hold me in 
friendly remembrance in consideration of to-day.” 

The youth laid his hand upon his heart as he assured 
her earnestly that he would never forget her. 

“ Very well ! When you have reached your goal, and 
are a great and celebrated artist, then seek for and repay 
me on your violin for having had the good fortune to 
save to the world the life of a genius.” 

He took the small, warm hand in his, while something 
like a sob mounted to his throat : “ I swear I will do it ! 
But where shall I find you ? I do not even know your 
name.” 

They had now come to a cross way, which, a few steps 
farther on, led to the high road. 

“ We must part here” she said; “ and perhaps when we 
meet again, it won’t be at a great distance from here 
either. When you return, ask for the Countess Hertha 
Bassewitz of Hohenlinden, and you will soon be told 
where to find me. Until then, fare thee well, and — pros- 
perity attend you.” 

She drew her hand away and turned quickly from him, 
as if to hide her face from his gaze. With light, elastic 
steps she returned across the undulating ground. Ewald 
watched her until a haze overspread his eyes, and his 
trembling lips murmured unconsciously her name. Then 
he turned and went quickly along the road. But the 
smiling landscape had logt for him all its charm. His 
heart was heavy. Had he learned in this hour the happi- 
ness and the pain of a first, pure love ? 

The sign of the “ Red Lion,” which swung in front of 
the inn, might at one time have possessed that color, but 
the red had long since disappeared, and the wind and 
rain had left little vestige of a lion of any color. The 
carriage was standing all ready to start again, and 


108 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


Kostomarow himself sat at a round table before the inn 
door waiting. But he uttered no word of reproof to 
Ewald for his tardiness. He even pressed his hand a 
little more warmly than usual as he greeted him, and 
motioned to him silently to take his place in the carriage. 
They drove back by the same way which they had come, 
and when the carriage again reached the highest point 
in their way, Kostomarow once more bade the driver 
stop. 

“ You did not go near that Castle ?” he asked, pointing 
to the magnificent residence. 

“ No, Herr Kostomarow, you had forbidden me.” 

“And you don’t know what it is called? You don’t 
know where we are ?” 

“ I think it must be Castle Hohenlinden.” 

“You are wrong there, but I will tell you. That 
princely pile yonder is Buchwald Castle, and all the 
land around here, so far as the eye can reach, belongs to 
the Hardenegg estate. If you should return to your 
father, and become reconciled to him, and greet your 
future brother in friendly fashion, he would bring you 
here with him to this paradise, and you would perhaps 
lead as easy a life as though you had been born a mem- 
ber of this old, aristocratic family. So I give you the 
choice between hard work and slothful ease. But mark 
me well, boy ! it is the last time !” 

Ewald grew dizzy as he looked at this magnificent 
building, and splendid, fairy-like visions floated before 
his eyes. Doubtless Hertha von Bassewitz was a guest 
in this house. Might he not be able to see her daily and 
hourly, if he carried out the programme the musician 
had pointed out to him ? Something like a great, irre- 
sistible power forced from his lips the words that should 
close the portals of happiness for him. For he seemed 
yet to hear Hertha’s sweet voice, and it sounded in his 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


109 


heart again. “ When you have reached your goal and 
are a great and celebrated artist then seek for me — ” 

Sitting erect and speaking in a tone of decision he said, 
aloud : 

“ I choose the work, Herr Kostomarow ; I will remain 
with you !” 

The old man motioned to the coachman to drive on. 

“ Very well, that settles it ! What I consider my duty 
I have done. I gave you time yesterday for undisturbed 
thought and to-day I showed you all that you would 
resign. Now, come what may, you can never say that 
I tried to deceive you or lead you astray. We have 
nothing more to detain us in the neighborhood of your 
natal city. To-day we will start for Paris, that you may 
pursue your studies under the best masters. And you 
will become a master of your art yourself, I am certain. 
There is no. obstacle in the path of him who has the 
strength to overcome.” 

The young man sat silent and looked straight ahead. 
Had he not, in this decisive moment, overcome the feel- 
ings of his heart ? But Kostomarow could never know 
how hard a victory it had been for him. 


110 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


CHAPTER VII. 

The Baroness von Hardenegg and her guests had 
adjourned for their after-dinner coffee to the veranda, 
which opened from the north wing of the castle. The 
mistress of Buchwald was a fine, stately looking woman, 
whose years sat lightly upon her, and whose dignified 
manner and aristocratic bearing were not the least of 
many charms. To be sure, her features bore rather a 
cold and haughty expression when in repose, but they 
assumed a charming and amiable look when she smiled, 
and at such moments she appeared mild and benevolent. 
This smile had been part of herself since the arrival of 
the distinguished family. 

She enlisted all her faculties to please these fastidious 
guests, ever-mindful to place herself, her worldly pos- 
sessions, and last, but most important of all, her idolized 
son, in a favorable light. She was mistress of great 
conversational powers which she exerted to the utmost, 
and she was constant in devising new amusements for 
her visitors. 

In the Countess Bassewitz, she found but a clumsy 
second. This pale, feeble woman had never been con- 
sidered particularly bright in the circle in which she 
moved, and having for years suffered from some obstin- 
ate bodily ailment, her entire interests centered in her 
own person, and in the daughter whom she adored. 

The Count was a solidly built man, no longer young, 
and browned by sun and wind. His manner and bear- 
ing, however, were rather those of a courtier than of a 
simple country gentleman, although he had been master 
of Hohenlinden since attaining his majority. His name 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


Ill 


had been well known at the Capital in former years 
when he was for a short time a member of the Diet. 
His open opposition to many of the measures of the 
ministerial party, however, effectually closed the door to 
any ambition he might have cherished for distinction 
in the service of his sovereign. He soon became dis- 
gusted, therefore, with -factional strife, and turned his 
back upon public life with a light heart, assuming the 
management of his extensive possessions with all the 
activity and perseverance of an energetic man. He had 
many lovable qualities, though he was considered very 
proud, and his usual manner was that of a superior to 
inferiors ; but he could be very fascinating when he was 
really attracted to his companion. In spite of his wealth 
he led a very retired life at Hohenlinden manor, and his 
neighbors’ attempts to establish friendly intercourse 
with him never met with more than formal returns, 
after which his exclusiveness would be more apparent 
than ever. Even with the Hardenegg family he had 
never been on terms of friendly intimacy. Many years 
ago, the late possessor of Buchwald had rendered him 
an important service, and solely as an acknowledgment 
of the debt he owed the dead, he took this occasion 
while traveling in the South to pay a visit to the widow 
of his whilom friend. 

Of the hostess’ plans concerning his daughter Hertha, 
he knew nothing ; but the indications were that he 
would not be inimical to them. Already he had 
repeatedly expressed his appreciation of this beauti- 
ful place, and his approval of the excellent management 
which the estate was under, and in his intercourse with 
his hostess, he had manifested an especial affability 
and deference. 

To-day as they sat on the balcony the conversation 
turned exclusively to the occurrences of the morning in 


1.12 THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 

which the heroine was, of course, the Countess Hertha. 
The young hunter had brought the news to the castle 
where it had been received by the inmates in various 
fashions. The Baroness von Hardenegg had heard it 
all with no apparent excitement, but Hertha’s mother, 
who was with her hostess at the moment, swooned ; the 
Count made no secret of his joy and proud satisfaction 
in the possession of a daughter who could do such a 
brave deed. He declared that he would not only pay 
the owner for his dead animal, but he would give the 
poor of Frauensee — such was the name of the village — 
a considerable sum, in order that the occurrence might 
not soon fade from their memory. 

He waited with impatience for the return of his 
daughter, but she was away unusually long, and when 
she at last appeared, just before dinner, he took her 
head between his hands and kissed her fresh lips most 
affectionately. Such caresses were not usual with the 
Count and were an undoubted indication of Ills great 
contentment, so that Hertha had good reason to be 
proud and satisfied. But she sat silent and depressed 
during all the discussions over her skill and presence of 
mind, and seemed more inclined to be moody than to 
rejoice. * 

Now they were all out on the veranda, whither their 
coffee had followed them, and the Count was smoking 
his usual after-dinner cigar. Hertha sat silent and 
listless, and no word of praise from her hostess could 
bring a smile of contentment to her face. A sound of 
wheels crunching along the pebbled carriage road 
was heard in the distance and Hertha exclaimed, as 
though glad of an opportunity to change the conversa- 
tion : 

“Visitors are coming, or perhaps the long expected 
Herr von Hardenegg has arrived at last.” 


SHE SANK DOWN ON THE MEADOW GRASS, AND HE SAT DOWN BESIDE HER. — See Page 104 














THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


113 


A shadow passed over the Baroness’ face. She knew 
that after his last telegram she need hardly expect to see 
her son, but she had not the courage to tell her guests 
how slight was her hope. 

“ That would be an unexpected joy,” she said, “ but 
if it be he, I think he should have sent some word 
announcing his arrival.” 

“ Your son seems to find life very pleasant in the old 
artists’ city,” said the Countess, rather sharply. “ You 
must look to it, my dear, or )rou will find him following 
his friend Briining’s example and putting away the 
sword for the brush or chisel.” 

“An ungrounded apprehension, Countess,” said a 
manly voice from the glass door which led to the dining- 
saloon ; “ Mother Nature has denied me any talent in 
that direction.” 

All eyes were turned in the direction from whence the 
voice came, and with a cry of unrestrained joy, Frau von 
Hardenegg threw her arms around her son. Her heart 
beat high with warrantable pride as she gazed at his 
handsome, manly form, and in this moment she forgave 
him [for all the anxiety and torture of the past few days. 
The greeting between the Count and his wife and Kurt 
was also warm and gracious. Frau von Hardenegg 
noted with inward pleasure that the Count was unmis- 
takably attracted by her son, whom he had seen last as a 
boy. And Kurt’s evident appreciation of Hertha’s fresh 
and unquestionable beauty, when he was presented to 
her, renewed, more than anything else could have done, 
the mother’s drooping spirits. He seemed to find it 
difficult to take his eyes off Hertha’s face, and he treated 
her not as a child but as a grown woman who should 
receive all possible attention from the opposite sex. 

“ We regret extremely that you have returned home 
just on the eve of our departure, Herr von Hardenegg,” 


114 


THE BREAtTa* OF CUSTOM. 


said Count Bassewitz. “But you were doubtless detained 
by something very urgent ?” 

“ I was indeed. I had an opportunity to obtain some 
important information concerning a member of our 
own family, and that, in connection with another mat- 
ter, detained me. By the way, you are interested in art, 
Count. Did you ever know an historical painter named 
Balthasar Stiller ?” 

Bassewitz smiled contemptuously. 

“ How did you come to hear of him ? He is a fool 
who insists upon making an exhibition of his meaning- 
less pictures until one refuses to have anything to say to 
him.” 

“ Hm ! Certainly he is following out a fancy of his 
own, but on the whole there is a great deal to be said in 
his defence. I, myself, purchased a picture from him, 
while I was on my visit to Briining.” 

“ Out of pity, perhaps. It seems too bad that he paints 
such daubs. I doubt if you’ll ever hang his picture in 
one of your saloons.” 

Kurt von Hardenegg colored to the very roots of his 
hair. 

“ And yet, Count,” he answered, hastily, “ I have 
decided to hang this painting, which you have so sharply 
condemned, but have never seen, in a conspicuous place, 
for it is of peculiar value to me.” 

Count Bassewitz glanced up at him astonished. The 
almost violent tone had surprised and unmistakably 
annoyed him. 

“ Well, whatever your taste may be, it is certainly no 
matter of dispute, my dear Herr von Hardenegg,” he 
said, coldly. “ Will you have the goodness, Baroness, to 
excuse me for a short time ? My head-overseer must 
be sent word that he is to expect us to-morrow. Per- 
mit me to offer you my arm, my dear Gabrielle.” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


115 


The Countess rose with a sigh. Hertha, who had been 
sitting leaning listlessly against the stone balustrade, 
sprang to her feet. 

“ I am going over to Frauensee, Papa,” she said. “ I 
must see for myself, that little lame Peter has not been 
injured by his fright.” 

Kurt turned quickly towards her as if he meant to 
offer to accompany her. But he appeared suddenly to 
have another thought, for he contented himself with 
bowing and then watching her graceful form until it 
had disappeared behind a hedge in the park. 

His mother steod by with compressed lips, and finally 
tapped him on the shoulder. 

“ You have conducted yourself in a charming manner, 
Kurt ! Why in the world were you so impolite to the 
Count ?” 

“ I only repaid him in his own coin. It was he who 
annoyed me at first.” 

“ He annoyed you ? Merely because he gave his 
opinion regarding an obscure painter. You are, as far 
as I know, no connoisseur yourself.” 

“ No matter ! You will perhaps understand later 
more clearly the reasons for my righteous indigna- 
tion.” 

*• Well, it is desirable that I should ; for I must 
confess I am at a loss to comprehend your behav- 
ior. As you had the misfortune to vex the Count, 
why did you not, at least, offer to accompany his 
daughter?” 

Hardenegg looked for a moment in the direction in 
which Hertha had disappeared. Then he^ passed his 
hand over his eyes. 

“ His daughter ? Bah, she is only a child yet !” 

Frau von Hardenegg’s countenance assumed its cold- 
est and severest expression. 


116 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“A child who in a few months will be a young woman. 
Who knows whether you will find her inclined to accept 
your knightly homage after she has had opportunities 
to compare you with others.” 

“ I should not be angry with her for that, Mamma. 
As for the rest, I am grateful to this noble family for 
giving me the opportunity to speak to you immediately. 
Perhaps you will permit me to lead you into the 
house.” 

The Baroness took his arm ; but it was very evident 
from her mien that with the pleasure of his return were 
mingled other and less agreeable sensations. When 
they reached her small, luxuriously furnished boudoir 
she sat down stiffly on the nearest chair. 

“Now I am ready to hear you. Your news concerns 
Botho Hardenegg, I presume?” 

“Yes, but of him, later. I am egotistical enough to 
speak first of what concerns myself more especially. A 
few words will tell you all. I am engaged to be mar- 
ried.” 

The Baroness did not appear as deeply shocked as 
Kurt had feared. She had wonderful control over her- 
self and did not lose her self-command very readily. 
But her face was hard and stern and her brow con- 
tracted. 

“ Nothing more than that ?” she asked, with cutting 
sarcasm. “ It is certainly good of you to bring me this 
joyful news yourself.” 

Kurt drew his chair closer to hers and spoke in a 
persuasive tone, trusting he could in this way put the 
conversation on a friendly footing. 

“ Let us not continue in this tone, dear Mother,” he 
begged. “ It would almost seem as if you wanted to 
prevent my giving you a clear explanation, and if that 
w r ere your object it would be annoying for us both. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


w 


Your plan in regard to the Countess Hertha was 
undoubtedly excellent, and I shall always remain grate- 
ful to you for the motherly love and solicitude which 
prompted it. But you cannot be angry with me when I 
teh you that I have followed the prompting of my own 
heart. Countess Hertha is a child — an unusually lovely 
child, I am free to acknowledge, but much too young, 
when we consider the idea you had conceived. Even if 
she were older, I must decline with thanks the honor of 
becoming the Count’s son-in-law ; for my heart has 
already decided for me in another quarter.” 

“ How interesting ! A genuine love match — how very 
romantic !” 

Kurt knew from the ironical tone that he could not 
avoid a battle, and became impatient. 

“Yes, Mamma, a genuine love match! I think that 
I may now indulge in such a luxury — Botho Hardenegg 
is dead. He died over twelve years ago in Siberia, 
whither he had been transported. Nobody will come to 
quarrel with me over a penny of our fortune. Why 
should I think exclusively of increasing it, instead of 
looking to my own future happiness and well being? 
After all, I’m no reigning monarch, upon whom such a 
sacrifice is forced, for reasons of state.” 

He bit the end of his moustaches, for his mother’s 
stony face robbed him of all composure. 

“Your speech is not reassuring, and does not awaken 
within one pleasurable anticipations regarding your 
choice. Would it noc be simpler if you were to tell me 
her name without so many high-flown words?” 

“ Certainly, you shall hear it immediately. She is the 
daughter of the painter, Balthasar Stiller, about why>m I 
have just been talking with Bassewitz.” 

His mother’s eyes opened wider, and she clutched 
convulsively at the handkerchief which lay on her lap. 


118 THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 

She restrained any exhibition of anger, but laughed 
loudly, as she threw her head back on her chair cushion. 

“ Charming, charming ! And this accounts for your 
bitterness against the Count. And did not you find, my 
dear Kurt, that you had recompensed the painter’s 
daughter sufficiently when you purchased the father’s 
picture? In such cases* one is not obliged to talk of 
betrothals or the like.” 

She had not been silenced or turned from her purpose 
by the angry color which mounted to her son’s brow, 
although it had by no means escaped her notice. She 
followed his movements with steady gaze as he rose and 
paced back and forth in the room. But now he stood 
in front of her and there was a look of decision in his 
face, which made her, in spite of her apparent calm, 
quake inwardly. 

“I did not expect, Mother, that you would go into 
ecstacies over my choice, and I realized that I would in 
all probability meet with some opposition from you. 
But I do desire, and it is as well to understand me fully, 
that you should speak respectfully of the young lady 
whom I consider worthy to become the wife of an 
Hardenegg.” 

“ But, good heavens ! Kurt, you cannot think seri- 
ously of enacting this Mardi gras scene in real life?/" 

“The betrothal is an accomplished fact, and myi/onor 
is at stake.” 

“A thoughtless word cannot bind you so long as you 
do not receive my consent.” 

She was excited enough now, but her son’s bearing 
was both decided and resolute. 

“ I came here to beg for your consent. It will be, 
naturally, of the greatest value to me ; but I cannot 
forbear calling your attention to the fact that it is not 
an absolute necessity.” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


119 


“Ah, you treat this affair as if I were of no account, 
and beg for my blessing for form’s sake only. It 
appears to me that under such circumstances it would 
be superfluous to discuss the matter further.” 

“No, it is not superfluous, for I wish to discuss it so 
that it will be fully understood between us. I should 
assume an attitude, as unworthy as it would be untena- 
ble, if I endeavored to delay making a detailed statement 
of my plans. There are various necessary preparations 
which admit of no delay. For instance, I must send in 
my resignation to-day. I implore you, dear Mother, 
with all my heart, to try to overcome this prejudice, and 
to become reconciled to the unalterable, for the sake of 
my future happiness.” 

Tears of anger glittered in the mother’s eyes. 

“ I cannot conceive that it is my only son who speaks 
to me thus. But you want to hear my final decision, so 
I will now say my last word on this subject. I will 
never recognize as my daughter a creature of such low 
birth — do you hear ? Never ! You have to choose 
between her and me. In the moment when you decide 
seriously on such an insane course, you and I are parted 
forever.” 

“ Mother !” 

“I have nothing more to say. Even if every vestige 
of filial affection is dead within you, it would be well for 
you to remember before it be too late, that you will be 
the first Hardenegg to stain your escutcheon.” 

The Baron’s lips formed themselves into a bitter 
smile. 

“Your reference to the Hardenegg family honor was 
not a happy one, Mother. Did I not tell you that my 
uncle Botho came to his glorious end while escaping 
from banishment in Siberia ?” 

“ Oh, that’s the fable of an impostor who was specu- 


120 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


lating on your credulity. I knew this Botho, and can 
tell you that while he was a fool, he was no criminal.” 

“ And even if it is a fable, need we go back to dis- 
cover a blemish on our escutcheon? You desire my 
engagement to an inexperienced child, and my own 
father stretched out his hands for what did not belong 
to him. He squandered his own fortune as well as part 
of your marriage portion, without remembering his 
obligations to either you or me, and he laid hands upon 
his brother’s possession, not knowing the day nor the 
hour when the absent one might return. I beg you, 
Mother, don’t take this high and mighty tone of injured 
innocence with me. We are alone, and might as well 
call things by their proper names. I intend no reproof, 
although perhaps it would have been better to discuss 
the situation of affairs at another time, when there might 
be a possibility of effacing the stain upon the family 
honor. Now nothing can be changed, and our future 
happiness will be what we make it. But you can see 
that it will be better for us to leave certain things out of 
the play, and not treat my mesalliance so tragically.” 

While he was speaking Frau von Hardenegg had risen 
from her seat, and drawing herself up to her full height 
moved slowly towards the door. 

“ I am not inclined to continue a conversation of such 
an unfitting nature with my own child. You have heard 
my ultimatum and can order your course accordingly.” 

She scorned to wait for a reply, and left the room as 
she finished speaking. 

Kurt stamped his foot impatiently on the carpet. 

“ It is insufferable !” he muttered between his closed 
teeth. “ I’ll bring all this bandying of words to an end 
with a short turn !” 

When Frau von Hardenegg received her guests in the 
supper-room that evening, there was nothing in either 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


121 


her manner or appearance to betray the stormy scene of 
the afternoon. Kurt also appeared bright and uncon- 
cerned, and not even the keenest observer could have 
imagined that any but the most friendly relations existed 
between mother and son. Count Bassewitz was at the 
same time very cool and dignified. He had not for- 
gotten the discourteous treatment he had received 
earlier in the day, and was not inclined to expose him- 
self to any repetitions. The Baron made various 
ineffectual attempts to draw him into conversation and 
devoted himself at last to the Countess Hertha, whose 
beauty had made a far deeper impression upon him than 
one would have imagined from his slighting speeches 
to his mother. 

“Tell me, Herr von Hardenegg,” said the Countess 
von Bassewitz, suddenly awakening from her usual 
apathy, “ do these artists live such free Bohemian lives 
in the city ? I have just been reading something of the 
sort in a novel. It must be in truth a very Sodom and 
Gomorra.” 

“ I think, Countess, that the author of your novel 
must have been guilty of frivolous exaggerations to 
give you ground for such suppositions. The only artist 
with whom I have any acquaintance at all, with the 
exception of Briining — and that is the painter Stiller — 
leads a truly exemplary life with his family ; in fact, 
^uch an exclusive life that I, for some time, had little 
nope of being admitted to it.” 

• For some time ? I hardly understand that.” The 
Countess had asked this question negligently, without 
any apparent interest. Frau von Hardenegg under- 
stood Kurt’s object, and for a moment mother and son 
looked at one another, with eyes which had no friendly 
gleam. 

“ Doubtless a jest whose point we do not see, dear 


122 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


friend/’ said the hostess, in sharp tones. But her hope 
that she would silence her son was a vain one. Kurt 
bit the end of his moustaches, but if his heart beat 
more rapidly, he at least succeeded in smiling. 

“ No, my dear Mother, why should not our highly 
esteemed friends know at once, that which will so soon 
be known by the world at large. I have become 
engaged since my sojourn in the old artists’ city to an 
amiable and charming girl, named Elfriede Stiller, and I 
hold myself very fortunate that I have been able to win 
her for my bride.” 

A profound silence followed this startling and coolly 
spoken announcement. Frau von Hardenegg seemed 
for the moment to be convulsed with pain. Then she 
sat like a statue of despair, colorless, with clasped hands 
lying in her lap and her eyes fixed immovably upon the 
carpet at her feet. It was good she did not see the 
astonished and by no means friendly look which passed 
over the Countess’ face. Count Bassewitz remained 
unmoved, and was as cool and unconcerned as he had 
been all evening, and when after a long and painful 
pause he broke the silence, his words had that polite, 
precise tone which under certain circumstances cuts 
deeper than any open affront. 

“ We are indebted to you, Herr von Hardenegg, for 
the honor you have done us in confiding in us,” he 
said, “ and I consider it my duty to apologize to you 
for having unwittingly annoyed you by criticising your 
future father-in-law’s paintings. In relation to this 
matter between yourself and the historical painter, Stil- 
ler, I could not — as you will readily understand — have 
had the slightest suspicion.” 

He had entirely ignored Kurt’s last words, and had 
uttered no wish for his future happiness, but the tones 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


123 


of his voice told more fully than words could have done 
his feeling of contempt for such an alliance. 

Kurt bit his under lip. He dared not show that he 
had been insulted, and it cost him dear to restrain the 
hasty words which rose to his lips. 

The only one who appeared neither surprised nor 
annoyed was the Countess Hertha. 

“You are going to marry a painter’s daughter, Herr 
von Hardenegg?” she asked, unconcernedly. “ Then, of 
course she is beautiful ?” 

“Yes, Countess, she is indeed! Beautiful, virtuous 
and worthy of all honor. A Prince’s daughter could 
not be more richly dowered.’’ 

“That is charming. Ah, I shall do my best to win 
her friendship. If Papa buys the estate of Lankenau 
and we become your neighbors, we shall see much of 
one another.’’ 

Count Bassewitz had risen. 

“ I think we had better retire, dear Gabrielle. As we 
have to return home early in the morning, you will need 
the rest.” 

“You are right, my dear. To-day I have had too 
much excitement and a great surprise.” 

She accompanied the last words with a significant 
smile. Then she held out her hand to her hostess. 

“ Good-night, dearest ; and if — but pardon me for my 
forgetfulness — I wish you great joy in your son’s new- 
found happiness. How charming it will be for you 
later. An artist’s home with exhibitions and costume 
festivals. What a shame it is that our fatal prejudices 
will rob us of an opportunity of seeing it all.” 

The Baroness had received these ironical good wishes in 
silence, and Kurt bowed without speaking as the aristo- 
cratic pair turned to leave the room, but their malicious 
guest had a bitter pill in preparation for him also. 


124 : 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ One need not wish a lover happy dreams,” she said, 
smiling. “ The picture of your beautiful bride — does it 
compare with her name ? Muller, if I am not mistaken, 
or Lehmann ? — How well it sounds.” 

“ The future Baroness von Hardenegg is now called 
Elfriede Stiller, Countess.” 

“Yes, I knew it was something like that. Well, I 
trust that the image of your lovely and worthy-of-all- 
honor bride will hover over you. Good-night !” 

Then the couple departed. Hertha delayed a mo- 
ment, then stepped up to Hardenegg and whispered to 
him : 

“ Give her my warmest congratulations. I am rejoiced 
at the thought of knowing her.” 

Mother and son were alone ; but as he turned hastily 
towards her, she motioned her hand to keep him back. 

“ God forgive you for what you have done. I will 
never pardon this humiliation. A Hardenegg who dis- 
cards his honor is no son of mine.” 

The Baron looked with kindling eye at her. 

“ Do not go to extremes, Mother, I beg you !” 

“ You understand me ; but see that the hussy does not 
cross the threshold of Buchwald while I remain under 
its roof. I ask no great sacrifice, for I will leave here 
as soon as I can make my preparations.” 

With head high in the air she passed by him. Kurt 
made a motion as if to stop her, but the cold, haughty 
expression of her face prevented him. 

He heard the rustle as the portiere fell together 
again, and his clenched hand dropped heavily upon the 
upholstered arm of the sofa. From his knitted brow 
and tightly drawn lips it was evident that the effect of 
his recent resolution was not a matter of unconcern and 
indifference to him. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


125 


He had begun the battle and he would fight it out at 
any cost. But the wounds which his pride had received 
in this first affray were deeper and more painful than 
he himself realized at present. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

The summer was over with its days of sunshine 
and of shadow ; already the rude storms of autumn 
were sweeping through the grand old forests which sur- 
rounded the family seat of the Hardeneggs. 

The leaves of the trees were bright with many colors, 
and the last of the roses had faded upon the castle ter- 
race. The golden fields of waving corn had disappeared 
and the meadows had lost their emerald hue. Nature 
was preparing herself for her long, cold sleep ; for that 
slumber which to so many living things is the sleep of 
death. 

For the past few days, wagon after wagon of furniture, 
paintings and other household adornments had been 
arriving at the castle. 

The Baron von Hardenegg — his visiting cards still 
bore his military title, “ Captain of Horse Dragoons, A. 
D.” — was soon to be married and was adorning his home 
for its new mistress. He had been at Buchwald for the 
past two weeks, in order that he might personally oversee 
and superintend all arrangements. His mother’s rooms, 
though she herself had been gone several months, were 
also put in thorough order, as if her return to her old 
home were expected at any moment. But when the ser- 
vants put their heads together in their own domain, they 


126 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


whispered to one another that their old mistress would 
never come back. 

The young couple were to be married in the simple 
village church at Frauensee. Such had ever been the 
custom of the Hardenegg family, and the villagers 
would have taken it very ill if the present Baron had 
denied them the privilege of seeing him wedded. 

The old pastor who had married Kurt’s parents was 
still living, and it seemed but fitting that this worthy 
old man should give the son his blessing. 

The evening before the marriage, Balthasar Stiller and 
his family arrived at Buchwald. All the officials and 
servants of the estate were gathered at the castle 
entrance to welcome the master’s young bride. There 
was no special formality and but few words were spoken 
at the time ; but the people were unanimous in their 
expressions of surprise and delight over the beauty and 
the heart-winning amiability of the young bride. To be 
sure, she looked rather pale, and the valet de chambre 
who had grown old in the family’s service shook his 
head significantly : “She does not look happy, and a 
sad bride brings no luck into the house !” 

Now the important morning had arrived, a mild 
autumn day, reminding one of the glories of the sum- 
mer just past. 

Already in the early morning hours, numbers of the 
guests had begun to arrive, principally Herr Stiller’s 
artist friends with their families. Kurt’s old-time com- 
rades and the aristocratic county families were but 
sparingly represented, although in sending out the invi- 
taions he had taken care that none should be forgot- 
ten. 

Nearly all had, under this or that pretext, given Kurt 
to understand, to his deep anger, that they would turn 
their backs most unequivocally upon a Baron who 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


127 


could make such a mesalliance. In order to spite them, 
and his mother as well, Kurt resolved to have as much 
display and splendor as was possible at his marriage. 
He knew that by doing so, he by no means carried out 
Elfriede’s wishes ; but he could not deny himself the 
balm which even this trifling matter gave to his morti- 
fied feelings. 

The Baron was on the point of calling his valet to put 
the finishing touches to his toilet, when old Heitmann, 
with disturbed countenance, hastily entered his dressing- 
room. 

“What’s the matter?” asked Hardenegg. “Why 
have you such a despairing look ? Has anything hap- 
pened ?” 

“ Ah, yes, gracious Herr ! — but I will not frighten you 
for I do not know whether it is anything serious or not. 
But the old pastor’s assistant is at the door ; he wishes 
to speak to you at once, if you will receive him.” 

“ Old gossip,” muttered Kurt to himself, but he added 
aloud : “ I will see this assistant, if it is a matter of 

such great importance.” 

He had never bothered himself about the church 
affairs in the village and had never heard until this 
minute that the pastor had an assistant. He turned his 
head indifferently now as the door opened ; but as he 
glanced at the thin figure clad in black which stood 
upon the threshold, a gleam like lightning passed^cross 
his face. 

“ Herr Werner, if I am not mistaken ?” came hastily 
and unamiablv from his lips. 

The other bowed politely and said, quietly, in his 
earnest, deep-toned voice : “ At your service, Herr von 

Hardenegg, now the pastor’s assistant in the parish of 
Frauensee.” 

Their eyes met. The Baron’s wore a look of astonish- 


128 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


ment, and were searching, indeed almost threatening. 
John Werner’s clear and mild eyes did not sink beneath 
them for a single moment. 

“I come as the bearer of unfortunate news,” he said. 
“ It will be impossible for Herr Valentine to perform 
your marriage service to-day. He had a severe fainting 
attack early this morning, and now lies in an extremely 
weak condition. His physician says it will be impossible 
for him to leave his room for a week at least.” 

“What an unfortunate accident ! And now? What 
are we to do ?” 

“ Either the ceremony must be delayed, or I shall have 
to perform it instead of Pastor Valentine.” 

Hardenegg endeavored to read the speaker’s face ; 
but on this pale, earnest countenance lay such perfect 
peace, that the Baron concluded he had erred in his 
former suppositions. 

“I will answer you frankly,” he said, after thinking a 
moment, “ that this is a very serious matter to me, and 
that I would decide unhesitatingly to delay the church 
service, if I saw any way to do it. But your announce- 
ment comes too late to make any change possible. The 
guests are assembled and all the preparations are made. 
So nothing remains to me but to accept your ser- 
vices.” 

Werner bowed his head. 

“ Very well, Herr von Hardenegg. And have you any 
special wishes concerning the ceremonies ?” 

“ No, I do not understand anything about the custom- 
ary formalities and so will leave it all to you. But I’ll 
count on you to make it as short as possible. Of course” 
— it evidently cost him an effort to speak — “ you will 
understand that I shall hope to receive you as my guest 
for the rest of the day.” 

The earnest face of the assistant signified neither 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


129 


refusal nor acceptance of this invitation, as he bowed 
silently and left the room. Kurt looked after him with 
a fretted face. 

“An unpleasant person,” he thought, “and a most 
singular accident to find him here and in the way for the 
second time. It almost looks as if I had been inten- 
tionally deceived. But I can settle all that very soon 
now !” 

The little incident had put him in a bad humor. But 
his vexation was changed to rapture when he beheld 
Elfriede an hour later in her bridal attire. How maid- 
enly and tender and how supremely beautiful she looked, 
with her tall, graceful figure attired in white and shim- 
mering silk ; how gracious her youthful face appeared 
beneath its myrtle diadem and under the rich lace veil 
which enveloped her from head to foot. But there was 
no gleam of transcendent happiness on her pale counte- 
nance, and her lovely eyes showed traces of scarcely 
dried tears. But such traces were readily explained by 
the natural agitation which so important an event in her 
life would call forth, and seemed neither strange nor 
blamable. 

With a few tender words spoken in tribute to her 
beauty, he kissed her hand in courtly homage. For her 
father, who was nearly overcome by the proud happiness 
of this day, he had also a hearty greeting. Then he led 
Elfriede over the costly carpets strewn with flowers, 
down to the elegant, bridal carriage drawn by four 
horses which tossed their beplumed heads proudly in 
the air. In stately fashion he assisted her to enter 
the carriage, and the wedding guests immediately fol- 
lowed their example ; and soon the train of equipages 
was moving through the still, autumn-tinted valley down 
to the village below. 

“ My beloved wife !” whispered Kurt, as he took her 


130 


TFIE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


hand and tenderly kissed her lips. “ How unspeakably 
happy you have made me this day. How ardently and 
how long I have wished for this hour !” 

His eyes sought hers ; but Elfriede looked out sadly 
over the landscape. “And your mother?” she asked. 
“ She has not come and she has not written me. Why 
did you not tell me sooner that she was not my friend ?” 

“ It would not have helped the matter, dear love ! It 
would only have given you unnecessary sorrow, and 
some vexatious hours. My mother’s prejudices are so 
deep-rooted that scarcely any reasoning would overcome 
them, and certainly not within a few weeks or months. 
The only way to reach her is to let her grow accustomed 
to an immutable, accomplished fact. And we are now 
on the point of accomplishing that.” He spoke in an 
excited, pained tone, and it annoyed him that Elfriede 
gave no other response than a sigh. 

“But you should not reprove me, my love, for my 
silence,” he continued, after a short pause, “ for I have 
just made a discovery of a circumstance about which I 
have been kept in the dark, and which would have been 
a matter of interest to me.” 

She looked up at him questioningly. “ But not by 
me? Do you believe that I have been concealing from 
you ?” 

“ Oh, no, that is hardly the right expression to use. 
But did not you know that your old friend, young 
Werner, had been made the assistant pastor at Frau- 
ensee ?” 

He was not quite certain whether or not he perceived 
a faint color pass over her face ; but if so it faded away 
as quickly as it had come and no change was apparent 
in her countenance. 

“ Certainly,” she replied, “ I knew it very well. But 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


131 


you never spoke of him, and I was not aware that you 
took any interest in him.” 

“And shall not your friends be mine also ? And all 
the more when they live in our vicinity ?” 

This time there was no mistaking the look of disturb- 
ance on her face. 

“ Is it of John Werner you speak ? How can he be in 
our neighborhood ?” 

“Those red roofs below us, my dear Elfriede, are the 
houses of Frauensec. I thought I had certainly told 
you the name of the village before now.” 

She did not answer, but leaned far back on the white 
silk cushions and gazed fixedly at the bouquet of lovely 
flowers which lay in her lap. Hardenegg frowned 
slightly. The construction which he put upon her 
manner was such as to make him uneasy. 

“ If you regard this piece of news as so surprising, you 
will certainly be much more astonished to hear that it is 
he who is to perform the marriage service for us 
to-day.” 

Elfriede was in no condition to conceal her fright 
from his distrustful eyes. 

“ That is impossible !” she said, giving him an anxious 
glance, “you yourself told me of an old clergyman, who 
had married your parents — ” 

Hardenegg did not answer at once. He saw the little 
tower of the village church between the tree tops and 
not far distant from them now. 

“And I spoke the truth !” he answered, in an almost 
hard tone. “ But Herr Valentine, the pastor, was taken 
suddenly ill to-day, and just at the last moment I learned 
that Werner was his assistant. The man is not sympa- 
thetic to me, but it was too late to change our arrange- 
ments. I was forced to accept the inevitable, but it 


132 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


surprises me a little to note that you seem laboring 
under some unaccountable excitement.” 

At this moment the church bells began to peal forth 
their welcome to the bridal pair. The horses were 
drawn up, and Elfriede had now no time to respond to 
Kurt’s words. She allowed him to lift her from the car- 
riage and she walked by his side over the flower strewn 
ground, which the village children had decked for them, 
and into the house of God. She felt it necessary to lean 
on the Baron’s arm, otherwise her strength would 
hardly have supported her. She saw nothing of the 
sunbeams which made a broad path of light on the 
stones at her feet, nor of the bright, gay throng which 
were around her. Hysterical tears darkened her eyes, 
which she did not venture to raise from the ground ; 
she seemed afraid of seeing something unbearable and 
frightful. 

Just in front of the simple altar stood the stools for 
the bridal pair. At the same moment in which they 
kneeled, the bells ceased ringing and the organ burst 
into full melody, while children’s voices sounded loud 
and clear, as they sang their hymn of joy. There was 
much whispering and fluttering among the guests who 
formed a glittering semi-circle around the altar rail. 
Now all became suddenly silent as the organ’s last note 
died away and the clergyman mounted the stair and 
turned towards the bridal pair. His bearing was 
upright and his countenance full of quiet earnestness. 
In his long robes he appeared no longer haggard and 
thin, but manly and almost stately. The warm, deep 
glance of his earnest, gray eyes was as inspiring and 
forceful as the deep but melodious tones of his voice. 
Little knew they who listened to his reverent words 
that he was repeating that which completely destroyed 
all his own hopes of happiness. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


133 


“ Where thou goest, there will I go also ; where thou 
remainest there will I be. Thy people shall be my 
people, and thy God shall be my God. Where thou 
best, there lie I also !” 

While he was speaking Kurt regarded him with fixed 
attention. For Elfriede’s manner had awakened anew 
within him the old jealous feeling, and he sought in the 
clergyman’s manner some corroboration for his distrust. 
But in this face there were no fluctuations. Once 
when a ray of sunlight passed across his face one might 
have noticed a deadly pallor. Truly, if this man’s soul 
were filled with an earthly love for the woman who 
knelt before him, and whom he was now joining to 
another, he must indeed have had a bitter conflict with 
his own heart, and* have come out from it like a hero. 
Such complete dissimulation was impossible ; his peace 
must have come to him after a terrible struggle, with 
God alone to know what it had cost him. 

His address was short, as the Baron had wished, but 
it was earnest and forcible. Within that little circle 
there were many wet eyes, but those of the bride were 
not numbered among them. 

Elfriede had now obtained the victory over herself ; 
but all this had come upon her too suddenly and unex- 
pectedly for her to find peace so soon. She heard 
all that was going on about her as if in a dream, and 
half unconsciously she did what usage demanded of her. 
She knelt at Kurt’s side and a shudder crept through 
her when she heard his loud “yes,” which reached to 
the farthest corners of the church as he responded to 
the customary questions. Then Werner turned to her 
with the same questions. For the first time his voice 
threatened to break ; but he was not the man to be 
overcome by weakness now. Elfriede’s lips trembled. 
Her “yes” was scarcely more than a fluttering breath. 


134 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


It was not audible to the wedding guests, but the two 
to whom alone it signified, the Baron and the clergyman, 
heard it. 

Werner changed the rings and gave his blessing to 
the newly married pair. Then the organ pealed forth 
again with deep sound, and the children chanted their 
song of rejoicing ; the solemn service was at an 
end. 

Already in the Sacristy the. young pair were receiving 
the congratulations of friends and acquaintances. Bal- 
thasar Stiller’s happiness was beyond expression, but 
he had to content himself with embracing Elfriede 
most demonstratively ; then he took Briining’s offered 
arm and permitted himself to be led to the car- 
riage. 

Among the bridal party there were none so charming 
and lovely as Marguerite. The joy over her sister’s 
good-fortune, and the alrpost childish rapture over the 
change in her own life were clearly visible in her bright, 
clear eyes. As was natural, her youthful grace and 
beauty attracted both attention and admiration. No 
one was quicker to recognize her many attractions than 
a man of about thirty years of age whom Kurt had 
expressly commanded to be her cavalier for the day. 
He had been presented to Marguerite by Kurt himself 
as his dearest and oldest friend, and his name was Baron 
Hartmuth von Rhoden. There was nothing in his per- 
sonal appearance to attract general attention, but it was 
uncommon enough to impress a young girl who had 
seen nothing of the world. 

He was a middle sized man with a lithe and sinewy 
figure, he had a haggard, sharply cut profile, and his 
dark, flashing eyes betokened a hot-blooded, quick-tem- 
pered nature. His movements were quick and his 
manner of speaking was often almost vehement and at 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


135 


times boisterous. He was undoubtedly a witty and 
interesting companion, all the more so when he spoke of 
his own experiences. For five years he had been a 
wanderer over all the inhabited earth, in order to satisfy 
his love for adventure, particularly in the field of sport. 
He could paint in glowing colors his hunts in the north 
for bear or bison, or describe the tiger-king caught in 
an Indian jungle. He was not only a bold hunter but 
a venturesome rider. Any one who cast his eye over 
the sporting columns of the day’s papers was sure to 
find his name there. Baron Rhoden was not only the 
happy possessor of many horses which had won in the 
ring, but he often mounted them himself in order to 
assure himself of victory in the field. 

Such a union of knightly qualities Marguerite had 
never before met in any man within the narrow confines 
of her secluded life, and it is not to be wondered at, 
that she was, for the time at least, charmed with her 
new acquaintance, and did not conceal her pleasure. 
But after a while his presence seemed to burden her ; 
there was no escape, and she at times had indeed a feel- 
ing of fright. 

He was her neighbor at table and monopolized all her 
attentions. No one had ever spoken to her as he had 
done. In his dark eyes, which followed her every 
motion, was an expression which reminded one of a cat 
preparing to pounce on his unsuspecting victim. More 
than once his words conveyed a deeper significance than 
was spoken,, which made Marguerite shudder although 
she did not comprehend them. 

The wedding banquet was enlivened by many grand- 
iloquent toasts and some rather startling surprises. As 
these last proceeded for the most part from the artists, 
the result was, that the feast very soon lost its aristo- 
cratic character. The merry company which had 


136 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


assembled to celebrate the unexampled good fortune of 
their fellow artist, gradually gave manner and tone to 
the whole affair. The Baron noticed this with growing 
discomfort. He would perhaps have done the same 
himself in an artist’s lodging, but it did not please him 
in his own house. He thought to give Herr Stiller a 
suggestive wink, but his father-in-law was the ring- 
leader of them all, and Hardenegg had but to look in 
his eyes to recognize that he need look for no assist- 
ance in that quarter. And before the banquet ended 
he had another unpleasant surprise to encounter, for 
John Werner’s pale, earnest face was visible in the 
place which had been reserved for him. 

“ The man has taken me at my word and accepted my 
invitation,” he thought. “ I should have imagined that 
on this occasion, at least, he would not have intruded.” 

After the feast was over, the regimental band of the 
nearest garrison played for dancing in the great hall. 
The doors which led out to the long balconies were 
partly open and the soft fragrant summer-like air rushed 
in and tempered the heat for the dance. 

They danced in gay measure to the merry strains, and 
no one revelled more joyously in the pleasure of the 
hour than did Marguerite. 

Baron Rhoden had just led her again to her place and 
had turned for a moment to speak to Hardenegg, who 
just then appeared in their vicinity, when a young 
man with a handsome, open countenance and a certain 
diffidence of manner, approached Marguerite. 

“ Permit me, Fraulein, to introduce myself to you as 
Forest-Inspector Reinach, and beg for the honor of the 
next dance.” 

His voice had a pleasant sound, and his friendly 
brown eyes had such a beseeching glance that Mar- 
guerite was ready to accede to his request. She had 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


137 


already risen to take his arm, when Baron Rhoden 
turned around almost violently. 

“ Excuse me, Sir,” he said, gruffly and almost rudely 
to Reinach. “ I believe I have an older claim ; Fraulein 
Stiller promised me this dance earlier in the day.” 

It was a falsehood, and Marguerite opened her lips to 
contradict him when she met his glance ; that dark, 
vulture-like look, which exercised such power over her. 
She, who had always been so courageous and fearless, 
now felt an uncontrollable fear of this man, a fear which 
for the moment overcame her love of truth. 

While her lovely face flushed painfully, she answered, 
in a low voice, without raising her eyes : “ The Baron is 

correct. I had forgotten that I promised him this 
dance.” 

Reinach released her arm from within his. He vouch- 
safed no glance toward Rhoden, but bowed with cool 
politeness to Marguerite. 

“ In that case I beg your pardon.” Then he stepped 
back, and disappeared in the gay crowd. Marguerite’s 
bright eyes filled with tears of anger and shame at her- 
self. 

“ There is no doubt he knew I was lying to him,” she 
said in her heart. “ And why, why did I do so ?” 

She thought she would seek him out and explain it all 
to him, but at this moment Rhoden took her hand and 
placed it on his arm. It seemed as though some 
witchery had possession of her. Here she had just 
made up her mind to reprove him sharply for his dupli- 
city, and now the halter was again around her throat. 
She was powerless against his strong will, and was soon 
whirling in the mazes of the dance with half-closed 
eyes. 

But her pleasure had been greatly marred by this 
little incident. To be sure, she had done no more than 


138 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


happens a hundred times at every ball, yet she felt 
depressed by the consciousness of wrong doing. With 
half an ear only did she listen to the Baron’s conversa- 
tion, for her eyes were constantly seeking for the young 
man with the good face and the pleading eyes. She 
discovered him at last leaning with folded arms against 
a window seat. 

“He is not dancing any more,” she thought. “My 
hateful conduct has deprived him of all pleasure. What 
must he think of me ?” 

She went through the final figure of the german with a 
lighter heart and step, and received her favors and pretty 
gifts with pleasure. She was smiling now, for her 
opportunity would soon come to make amends to Herr 
Reinach. She started toward him with her favor in her 
hand as soon as the dance ended, but he, perceiving her 
approach, turned abruptly and left his place. 

Marguerite colored violently and stood still for a 
moment. How gladly she would have hidden her face 
from view with her flowers, and rushed from the room 
had that been possible. 

A light touch on her arm made her look up. Again 
it was Rhoden who had followed her like a shadow. 
She believed that an ironical smile played around his 
lips. 

“ Are you going to give me this as a token of your 
regard, Fraulein Marguerite ?” he asked, softly. 

And without another word she pinned the favor with 
trembling fingers on his breast. 

Since early morning Elfriede had sought in vain for 
an undisturbed moment. How much she had dreaded 
this day and how surely she had felt that all her strength 
would be needed to carry her through it. The course 
of events had, however, far outstripped her worse antici- 
pations. It was only by the greatest exertion that she 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


139 


was able to do what her duties as a bride demanded, 
but her weary, forced smile was the smile of a face as 
colorless as a statue. Hardenegg had scarcely left her 
side ; but now during the figures of a dance she found 
an opportunity to escape unperceived through a half 
open door out upon the balcony. 

The sun had long since set, and over the landscape 
lay the deep shadows of a moonless night. Elfriede 
shuddered ; but the clear, cold evening air revived her 
as she leaned her heated brow against a marble vase set 
in the stone balustrade. She had laid her veil and 
wreath aside long since ; but the heavy folds of her 
white bridal robes still clung to the graceful figure. 
Coming as she did from the sea of light within to the 
shadow without, she had not seen anything but the dark- 
ness ; but as her eyes grew accustomed to the shadows 
she noticed not far from her, and but partly concealed 
by the tall plants which adorned the balcony, the out- 
lines of a manly form. 

Whether in her first surprise she gave a little cry or 
noc she could not tell ; at any rate she had attracted the 
man’s attention, for he made a step towards her. And 
in the next instant they recognized one another. 

“John Werner — you ?” came from the trembling lips 
of the young wife as she stretched forth her hands as if 
to shield herself from a threatened danger. For the 
moment the clergyman almost lost his self-command, 
then he bowed quietly. 

“ Pardon me, Frau von Hardenegg,” he said. “ It was 
not my object to disturb you.” ' * 

He would have left the balcony; but Elfriede 
detained him. 

“Why do you fly from me? Do you consider that an 
indication of friendship ?” 

All the unspoken bitterness which she had that day 


140 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


endured broke forth in that simple question. Werner 
remained standing, but it was more surprise than vexa- 
tion that sounded in his reply. 

“ Not an indication of friendship, but a consideration 
of duty. It was your desire for undisturbed quiet which 
brought you out here !” 

“ Yes ! But I am thankful for this accident which 
enables me to ask you a question — a question which has 
been on my heart the whole day long. Must I think, 
John, that you avoided me, that you might not hear it ?” 

“ When have I given you reason to think so little of 
me ?” 

“ I know now, when I am able to think by myself, how 
much I merit my own anger and contempt.” 

She was not strong enough now to keep back the feel- 
ings with which her heart had been nearly breaking all 
day. Her bosom heaved and she buried her burning 
face in her hands. 

Werner had stepped near to her. 

“ Elfriede,” he said, in mild, earnest tones which forced 
themselves to the heart, “ I am deeply grieved to hear 
such words of faint-heartedness and cowardice from 
your lips.” 

Already she was moved by a feeling of shame ; but 
she had suffered so much during this long day of torture 
that his peaceful manner only added a new sting to her 
sorrow. 

“ Oh, I well know that to you this faint-heartedness is 
strange and hardly conceivable,” she answered, bit- 
terly. “Your deportment this morning gave one sufficient 
evidence of that. And that is what I wanted to ask you ! 
Was no other course open to you than this ? Was it you 
— only you, who could give the church’s blessing to my 
marriage ?” 

“ It is not I who have given this blessing, Elfriede, 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


141 


but God. That I was His instrument in going through 
the customary forms was an accident, or a decree of 
God from which I could not escape. And would it 
have been better if I had declined. Should we not be 
all the more thankful for the wisdom of the Ruler of all, 
who has given us strength to overcome all our inward 
conflicts. He alone knows our inward struggles. And 
I think He has imposed this upon us, in order that upon 
the grave of foolish hopes, the flowers of purity and 
peace may bloom.” 

Elfriede supported herself against the stone pillar. 
Her hot, tearless eyes glanced down over the still, slum- 
bering valley, whose darkness and quiet presented 
such a contrast to the glitter and the music behind 
her. 

“ Is that not a picture of my life ?” she asked, sadly. 
“ Behind me lies all the happiness and peace of my exist- 
ence ; before me the darkness and the silence of a 
churchyard.” 

“ No, not a churchyard, Elfriede, but the peace of a 
blessed abode adorned with fruit and flowers, the quiet 
of a heart which has found peace in the consciousness 
of duty fulfilled. The doubts and alarms from within 
will soon be silenced, and you will leave behind, with 
rejoicing, this emptiness of head and heart which now 
encompasses you. Over this dark valley the sun in a 
few hours will shine again, and will with countless 
miracles manifest the spirit of love, and no written 
words will be engraved so deeply as his writing on the 
leaves of the book of nature. You, also, Elfriede, must 
find your future in this spirit of love ! Strive, therefore, 
to make others happy, for you may be certain that there 
is no other way than this in which to find your own hap- 
piness !” 

The rancor and bitterness melted from the young 


142 


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wife’s heart under the intensity and warmth of his 
words. She turned to him and held out her hand. 

“ Have patience with me ; I have this day almost lost 
myself. But I now know the way I should go, and I — I 
will seek it.” 

Just at this moment a single rocket shot up into the 
starless night, a long, bright stream which rose suddenly 
and then vanished into the empty air. The noise and 
flash of light came so suddenly upon Elfriede that she 
involuntarily drew closer to Werner from sheer fright. 
There were many doors and windows opening upon the 
balcony, and through these the wedding guests came 
hastily out, crying : “ The fireworks are beginning — the 
fireworks !” And in the moment’s excitement none of 
the company noticed the couple who had been standing 
there alone. The first one who had stepped out upon 
the balcony had, however, not been so unobservant, and 
that was the Baron von Hardenegg. He stepped almost 
fiercely up to his wife and seized her hand with a brutal 
hold. 

“ When you wish to gossip with your friend,” he 
whispered, “ there is plenty of room in the salon ! Let 
this be the last time I ever see you alone with him ; 
mark me well ! the last time !” 

Chairs had been brought out to them and he drew 
her down by his side. And now the brilliant lights in 
their many gay colors burst upon them from all sides, 
illuminating the entire heavens with gorgeous coloring 
and then fading and leaving behind them that dark- 
ness which by contrast seemed denser than ever. 

The gay company upon the balcony greeted the 
pyrotechnic display with shouts of delight and surprise. 
But she in whose honor all this noisy magnificence was 
displayed, sat pale and sad with compressed lips by the 
side of her newly wedded husband. A dark cloud was 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


143 


moving slowly towards the castle ; the merry throng 
took no note of it, but to the young bride the oppres- 
siveness became almost unbearable. 

But this feeling of oppression lay within her breast, 
and did not disappear as the parti-colored lights went 
out. 


CHAPTER IX. 

The wax candles were burming low, and the sultri- 
ness of the room in which Baron Hartmuth von Rhoden 
and his friend Kurt von Hardenegg were sitting, was 
rendered more oppressive by the thick cigar smoke 
which penetrated its every corner. The clocks had 
struck their midnight chimes two hours before, and as 
Rhoden poured the last drop of wine from the decanter 
he said, yawning : 

“ Haven’t we had enough for to-night, my dear 
Kurt ?” while Hardenegg, who sat opposite him, at the 
card table, began to shuffle the cards again. “ I dare 
say it is not exactly the thing for me to suggest quitting, 
for fortune has certainly been on my side. But 
to-morrow’s another day and you can take your revenge 
then.” 

The Baron threw the cards on the table, and struck 
a little silver drum-shaped gong which stood near 
him. 

“As you will!” he said. “This continued ill-luck 
does begin to weary me. But if you have no objection 
we will have a quarter of an hour’s talk — Bring us a 
bottle of Rauenthaler, Heitman, and then you can go to 
bed.” 


144 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


Until the old servant’s return the two friends were 
silent. Rhoden leaned back comfortably in his chair 
and looked at the golden arabesques of the ceiling. 
Hardenegg blew thick clouds of smoke from his lips, 
knit his brows and looked straight ahead. He had 
changed perceptibly in appearance in the four years 
which lay between this night and his wedding-day. He 
was still a very handsome and a very aristocratic look- 
ing man ; but his figure was getting a little too corpu- 
lent, and his face was becoming flabby. Strange lines 
were visible in it, doubtless the result of many nights 
spent in just such a manner as the one now drawing to a 
close. Baron Rhoden had not altered, and did not look 
a day older than the hour in which he first met Mar- 
guerite Stiller. Nature had provided him with a happy 
constitudon which had enabled him to conquer even the 
greatest exertions and maddest excesses, and he enjoyed 
the reputation of being the most foolhardy, adventurous 
and untiring carouser of his circle of acquaintances. 

Heitman brought in the ordered wine. His old face 
looked very troubled as he set the bottle down before 
his master. 

“ Have you any further orders, Herr Baron ?” he asked, 
in such a depressed tone that Hardenegg turned round 
and looked at him astonished. 

“ No ! But why do you speak so sorrowfully ? Are 
you ill ? or are you concealing some love affair?” 

“I am not sick, Sir, and the time for love affairs has 
long since gone by for me. But there are sorrows and 
sufferings of other kinds, and even an old servant feels 
it at times, when he has not the right to speak out 
unless he is questioned.” 

“And you think I’ll be fool enough to question 
you?” interrupted Hardenegg, impatiently. “As if I 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


145 


didn’t know long ago what an old prattler you were. 
You are dismissed for to-night !” 

The old man obeyed the imperious motion of his mas- 
ter’s hand and left the room ; as he closed the door he 
muttered, shaking his head : “ Like his father — like his 

father. It began just like this before all the troubles 
came.” 

The master refilled his glass again. His hands were 
growing a little unsteady. 

“ I verily believe that childish old man would like to 
read me a sermon,” he said. “An old heirloom like 
that is an awful nuisance. Servants of this kind become 
with time very insolent.” 

“You ought to deliver him up to the hangman,” 
advised Rhoden. “ I had a horse-breaker once whose 
capabilities had been expended for me a thousand times ; 
but one day the churl saw fit to assume the tone of 
mentor, so I struck him in the face with my riding whip 
and pitched him out of the stables.” 

“ Who knows but I should have done something like 
that long ago. But Heitman is, I am sorry to say, a 
declared favorite of my wife — But speaking of your 
jockey reminds me that our North German Derby 
comes off in eight days. How do the chances stand for 
Sierstorpf’s 1 Eglantine ’?” 

Rhoden sipped his wine slowly before he replied, 
shrugging his shoulders : “ Bad ! Count Vischering’s 
‘ Kla Bauterman ’ has surprised every one with the way 
he has come out. I am forced by necessity to stand by 
no horse unless I am confident it will win.” 

“ Do you know, Hartmuth, that that is very bad news 
for me ? I hope with all my heart that for once at least 
your sharp glance deceives you ; for I’ve put up a large 
sum on ‘ Eglantine.’ ” 

“ Have you indeed ! And so long beforehand, too. 


14fi THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 

Don't take it amiss, my dear boy, but that’s a fool- 
hardiness of which I have never been guilty.” 

Hardenegg stroked his beard. The furrows in his 
brow had become deeper than ever. 

“ Well, it’s past help now ! I bet when I had been 
drinking heavily, after that last run at Happegarten, 
when 4 Eglantine ’ came in so far ahead, much to my 
sorrow. The chances were as favorable as possible 
then, and it would be the worst possible luck if I was 
fooled by the devilish beast a second time.” 

“All we can do is to hope for the best, although for 
my part I think you’ll surely lose — Henderson is going 
to ride 4 Kla Bauterman,’ and if you are not able to buy 
him off with a hundred double crowns he will win.” 

There was a short silence. Then Hardenegg broke 
his freshly lit cigar in two, and threw it down. 

“Wretched tobacco in these last years ‘Gracias!’ 
They taste to me like poison ! As to all this about the 
4 Eglantine,’ you may not be right, Hartmuth, you can’t 
really tell. Such a calamity would throw me into very 
serious embarrassment.” 

“Ah!” came in surprised tones from Rhoden’s lips. 
44 It pleases you to jest, my friend. Into serious 
embarrassment — you ?” 

Hardenegg had risen. He paced the room a couple 
of times, and then opened the door in order to convince 
himself that Heitmann had surely gone, then he turned 
back to his friend and took a chair close by his side. 

“ You have not misunderstood me ; but of course it is 
a matter of only momentary depression. But for the 
past few days, since you have been my guest, I have 
wished to speak to you on the subject. You are my 
best friend and the only one in whom I can place 
implicit confidence.” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


147 

“You require no assurance that I am at your disposal, 
heart and soul." 

“You can well understand that the whole matter is 
painful to me ; consequently, you’ll spare me long 
explanations. My estates bring me in a considerable 
income, for they are altogether unencumbered. But this 
income has, during the last year, not been sufficient to 
cover my expenses. You know the reason. Since this 
passion for sport has seized me I seem to have been 
followed by unexampled ill-luck. You’d be astonished 
if I were to tell you the amount I had lost by betting. 
Of my other losses at the gaming table I will not speak. 
They are comparatively small, but they mount up to a 
large sum, after all. The resources which are usually at 
my disposal I have already utilized, and the obligations 
under which I am placed to you in view of my repeated 
losses, I am not at present able to discharge. My bank 
account is exhausted. In order to raise the required 
money, I must mortgage some of my landed property 
for a good, round sum.” 

“ If the sum is not altogether too large, perhaps you 
will allow me to lend it to you ?” 

“This friendly offer deserves my warmest thanks; 
but I need, in order to free myself from my present 
obligations, at least two hundred thousand marks.” 

“Ah ! that is much more than I could place at your 
disposal.” 

“ As a loan without sufficient security — certainly ! I 
had no thought of demanding such a thing from you. 
But I am in a very delicate position. I must positively 
have the money, and should be willing to place a 
mortgage on Buchwald, if — ” 

“ Well, there is no difficulty in doing that. With 
your property entirely free from debt, you could place 


148 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


a million on it if you wished. The sum in question is 
not large, and the interest is no great matter.” 

“ True enough, the amount is not so great if the mort- 
gage could be effected without anything further. But 
that is, unfortunately, impossible.” 

“ Impossible ? are you, then, not absolute master over 
your own property ?” 

“ Not quite. All the landed property is in the name 
of the Baron Botho von Hardenegg, my father’s almost 
forgotten brother. I can neither sell nor hypothecate 
it, until the statute of limitation has run out, and that 
time is too far distant for me to wait.” 

Baron Rhoden was lost in thought. In his dark eyes 
was again that keen, avaricious look which had once 
reminded Marguerite of a bird of prey. 

“That’s a surprising piece of news,” he said. “Are 
you quite confident, my dear Kurt, that the long lost 
uncle will not appear on the scene some day, and demand 
back his own property ?” 

The question was certainly natural and apropos ; but 
Hardenegg thought fit to assume an injured air. 

“ Do you believe that I would have touched a penny 
of the income had there been such a possibility ? I 
have received circumstantial intelligence of his death 
long years ago.” 

“So much the better. I must certainly agree with 
you that your present situation is an extremely unpleas- 
ant one. And the worst of it is that there seems no 
chance, I am sorry to say, of my helping you out of it.” 

“ I have placed all my hopes on you, Hartmuth. You 
can readily understand that I do not feel inclined to 
take any one else into my confidence.” 

“Certainly. But the sum is too large. And besides, 
I can not always do what my inclination would dictate. 
I have certain considerations to regard concerning my 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


149 


brothers and sisters, and — in short, dear friend, no mat- 
ter how willing I am, there is nothing I can do to assist 
you.” 

Hardenegg sprang up and began anew his uneasy wan- 
derings about the room. Every line of his face which 
the past year’s mad career had made seemed to deepen 
perceptibly, his breath came quickly, and the deep flush 
on his face faded to yellowish white. For many min- 
utes no sound was heard but the echo of his footsteps 
and the tick-tack from the pendulum of the high case- 
clock. 

“ Heaven alone knows what will be the end of it all,” 
Kurt said at last. “ I’ll go into the city to-morrow and 
make the rounds of the usurers and money lenders.” 

“ Permit me one more question, Kurt. Have you cer- 
tain and undeniable proof of your uncle’s death ?” 

“ Proof which the court would recognize — no !” 

“ And upon what are your convictions grounded ?” 

“ Upon the story of a man who was with my uncle 
when he died, and upon the more than obvious proba- 
bility, that he would long since have announced himself 
had he been in the land of the living.” 

“ Well, I would advise you not to go the rounds among 
the Jews as yet. You would only have trouble with the 
vagabonds, without gaining anything. And it doesn’t 
seem to me exactly the thing to let the condition of 
affairs become public gossip.” 

The Baron’s answer had an angry sound. 

“ Your advice is good as well as cheap. I have often 
given myself the same ; but the drowning man seizes 
the nearest board hoping he may yet be landed high 
and dry.” 

Again there was an oppressive pause ; Rhoden’s glit- 
tering eyes followed his friend steadily, and Harden- 
egg’s excitement was becoming greater every moment. 


150 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ The matter comes nearer home to me than you 
imagine, my dear Kurt. And in order to prove it I’ll 
make a proposition to you which may perhaps open a 
way for us.” 

Hardenegg halted in his walk. And a gleam of hope 
passed over his face. 

“I’ll agree in advance to all you can ask for, Hart- 
m nth.” 

“ All I have to ask is whether in this case your 
authority can reach as far as your good will — perhaps 
it is not quite unknown to you that I have a little weak- 
ness for your beautiful sister-in-law?” 

“Yes, I have noticed it. But you have no thought of 
marrying her ?” 

“Oh, yes, I have thought of it. You know I haven’t 
much sympathy with this class-prejudice nonsense and 
other twaddle. I am rich enough to be independent, 
and I would not be turned from my course by anyone, 
even if it pleased me to make a chambermaid the 
Baroness von Rhoden. The difficulty is on the other 
side. Fraulein Marguerite does not seem inclined to 
honor me with her favor.” 

“ Have you made her a proposal ?” 

“Not exactly; I want to become better acquainted 
with the lie of the land, before I lay myself open to the 
danger of a refusal. But the overtures which I have 
occasionally made were quite as intelligible as the 
answers which I received in return. Your wife, I regret 
to say, has never admitted me to her friendship, and I 
have reason to think that it is she who has rather preju- 
diced her sister against me.” 

“You must be in error, Hartmuth. But — forgive me 
for interrupting you — what connection has all this with 
my affairs ?” 

“ A very serious one. I could answer to my brothers 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


151 


and sisters for granting a loan, even without any appar- 
ent security, to my brother, which I would be forced to 
refuse, no matter how hard it would be, my dearest 
friend " 

Slowly and with oppressive distinctness he had 
uttered every word. The color had come back in 
Hardenegg’s face. Who could tell whether it was pas- 
sion or shame which had forced the deep red into his 
cheeks ? 

“Indeed !" he said, doubtfully. “This is a turn for 
which I was certainly unprepared. Our old friendship 
must be my excuse for not taking it as a personal 
humiliation. For the time being let us leave my affairs 
entirely out of the question. I cannot render you any 
assistance and I am in some measure surprised. Have 
you really considered carefully all the consequences of 
so significant a step ? It would seem to you wondrous 
strange if I made any attempt to dissuade you, but I 
would do nothing in the world which would place me 
under the shadow of a suspicion of going into a scheme 
which perhaps might not be for the best for you, just 
for my own self-interest." 

“ Why shouldn’t it be for the best for me? Are you 
not happily married yourself ?’’ 

“ Oh, certaftily, one would call it a happy marriage. 
But truthfully, I should have decided differently had it 
been possible to have this four years experience come 
before my marriage." 

Rhoden smiled somewhat maliciously. 

“You began with a mistake, my dear boy. You 
should have separated this unconscionable old man from 
them, in the beginning. In his own atelier under a city 
roof, he may have struck you as an original, but in a 
respectable house he is simply a laughing stock. But 
you need not be uneasy on my account. Up to the 


152 


TIIE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


present time I have been prepared for whatsoever might 
happen.” 

“And are you anxious to settle this affair at once ?” 

“No need to rush the matter. We can wait at least 
until after the races; a little delay won’t matter much to 
you, I suppose ?” 

Hardenegg bit his lips. 

“I must beg you, Hartmuth, to keep this affair alto- 
gether separate from my matters. I have detained you 
for more than an hour with my babble. Now I feel dead 
tired.” 

He waved his guest to take precedence as they went 
through the oppressive, dimly lighted apartment. 
When they were shaking hands for the night at the 
door, Rhoden remarked, incidentally : “ It might be to 
your advantage to go to Berlin in order to meet Count 
Bassewitz. He’ll appear in the race course with two 
full-blooded English stallions. You are old acquaint- 
ances, and, if I am not mistaken, there was some talk at 
one time of a marriage between you and the Countess 
Hertha.” 

“ Possibly. I believe my mother had some such idea.” 

“ And you disdained the Count’s daughter in order to 
follow the dictates of your heart. The blessed Countess 
Bassewitz will not forgive you to the day of her death. 
I remember well how spitefully she spoke of your mar- 
riage whenever she had an opportunity. But it matters 
little to the Countess Hertha, for to-day she has a train 
of brilliant suitors.” 

Hardenegg heard him with perceptible uneasiness. 
This did not seem to be a theme to allay his excitement. 

“She must be very beautiful now,” he said. “ When 
I last saw her she was but a child.” 

“ Oh, she has a glittering beauty such as I have never 
seen before. Truly, Kurt, if you had not made so for- 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


153 


tunate a choice yourself, I should say you had acted most 
foolishly.” 

“ Good-night, Hartmuth,” was the Baron’s only an- 
swer and he turned away hastily, as if to avoid farther 
conversation on the subject. Rhoden looked after him, 
while a mocking smile overspread his sharply cut fea- 
tures. The comfortable manner in which he stroked his 
beard and the glitter in his eye were witnesses to the 
fact that he had no reason to be discontented with that 
night's work. 

Hardenegg’s brows were dark and knit as he sought 
his sleeping chamber, which was separated from his 
wife’s by only a small dressing-room. To his money' 
troubles, which had lain like a mountain on his breast 
for the past week, were now added new and unpleasant 
sensations. He believed implicitly in the sincerity of 
Rhoden’s friendship, but the stipulation which he had 
made as the price of his monetary assistance, troubled 
Hardenegg greatly. And he had been made all the more 
uncomfortable by the Baron’s last words concerning 
Countess Hertha. Her lovely face still lived in his mem- 
ory, and through the night’s deep stillness which encom- 
passed the sleeping household, he seemed to hear the 
whisper of a mocking voice: “ She would have been 
yours with all her beauty and all her wealth if you had 
so willed it. What folly took possession of you that you 
scorned her ?” 


154 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


CHAPTER X. 

When the family assembled for breakfast at the Castle 
next morning, Hardenegg looked unrefreshed and 
irritable. He complained of headache, and looking at 
the deep rims under his eyes, one could well believe it. 

Rhoden was, on the contrary, fresh and buoyant as 
usual. He led the conversation with wit and zest, and 
was polite in a hundred little ways to his hostess and 
her sister. His respectful attentions made little impres- 
sion, however, upon Marguerite Stiller, and as for his 
hostess, she paid him no more regard than the duties of 
politeness forced upon her. 

Elfriede could to-day still pass as the more beautiful 
of the two sisters. Her figure had become a trifle fuller, 
and her face, notwithstanding its earnest expression, 
had fulfilled the promise of her early youth. In the 
natural dignity of her bearing and the unaffected grace 
of her movements, there was the same captivating charm 
which had attracted Baron von Hardenegg that bright 
summer day long ago. Marguerite was a contrast to 
her sister in being the embodiment of hilarity and 
naivete. Her beauty was not of so regular and classic 
a kind as Elfriede’s, but the youthfulness of her actions 
and the charming smile which played roguishly about 
her pouting lips, made her appear unusually fascinating. 
Her manner of receiving Baron von Rhoden’s attentions 
seemed not to have changed since the day on which she 
first met him. She would redden or look down 
attentively at something before her whenever those dark, 
passionate eyes, with their intense expression, were 
directed toward her. But she gave herself up, notwith- 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


155 


standing, to the power of his personality and the attract- 
iveness of his lively and interesting conversation. 

“ I hope that you have not forgotten, Fraulein 
Marguerite,” he said, “that you promised to take a ride 
with me this morning. I declare beforehand that I will 
not accept any excuse this time.” 

The young girl hesitated before answering, and looked 
irresolutely at her sister. 

“You will be obliged to intercede for me, Baron von 
Rhoden. I do not know whether my sister will agree 
to our going or not.” 

“Would it not in truth be better for you to renounce 
this pleasure, dear Marguerite ?” said Elfriede, before 
the Baron had time to speak again. “ You are not 
enough at home in the saddle to venture any distance 
without danger.” 

“ If Rhoden accompanies her there need be no talk of 
danger,” broke in Hardenegg, and his words had a 
sharp and decided sound. “You see your sister doesn’t 
wish to be deprived of this pleasure, and doubtless gives 
you little thanks for your needless anxiety.” 

A slight flush rose to the young wife’s cheeks, but she 
turned to her husband with no expression of annoyance, 
but rather with a friendly petition in her glance. 

“I would be much better satisfied if you would 
accompany them. I am certain, that otherwise my 
father will be much concerned.” 

“ I ? O no — O no ! I beg you, don’t take me into 
consideration at all.” 

In great haste and with unmistakable uneasiness the 
historical painter had spoken in his own defence. It 
w T as evident that he felt the greatest discomfort that his 
name had been dragged into the conversation. As soon 
as it was possible for him to do so, he left the table and 
went to the open window, and as the bright sunlight fell 


156 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


upon his face and gray hair, one realized how old and 
haggard he had grown in these four short years. Now, 
as he glanced stealthily from one to another he saw 
that the appeal to himself had not been noticed. 

“ I have no time to-day,” was Hardenegg’s gruff reply 
to his wife’s request. “ And besides, it would be 
altogether unnecessary. Heitmann, see that the ‘ Fox ’ 
and the ‘Lady’ are saddled at once for Baron Rhoden 
and Fraulein Marguerite.” 

After the old servant had retired to give the order, 
there was a pause in the conversation. Hardenegg’s 
curt manner of dismissing his wife’s request had left a 
painful impression upon them all. Marguerite was the 
first to break the silence, hoping to dispel the after- 
effect of her brother-in-law’s brusqueness. She had 
risen from her seat and was now leaning on her sister’s 
chair while she whispered, as she softly kissed her 
cheek: “You are not angry with me, are you, dear 
Elfriede ? Nothing will happen to me, and I promise 
you that I will be as cautious as possible.” 

Elfriede smiled kindly upon her, although it was evi- 
dent that her lips quivered. Then Marguerite slipped 
out of the room to prepare herself for the ride, and a few 
minutes later Rhoden followed her example. Scarcely 
had the door closed when Hardenegg pushed his chair 
back roughly and sprang up, saying, angrily : “ Your 
behavior is inexplicable to me at times, Elfriede. Can- 
not you see that Rhoden might be annoyed by your 
foolish opposition ? He is one of the best riders in the 
whole country.” 

“ I have no doubt of it, but it was much less the care 
for Marguerite’s bodily welfare, than considerations of 
another nature which made me oppose the ride. I find 
that the Baron is not the best company in the world for 
my sister.” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


157 


She spoke quietly and in a soft, rather than a bitter 
tone. Yet there was a sound of fearless determination 
in her words which irritated her ill-humored husband 
more than ever. 

“And what have you against him, if I may ask? Has 
he been guilty of any discourtesy towards either you or 
your sister? Or are you so little in sympathy with him 
merely because he is my friend ?” 

“ Certainly not the latter, Kurt. Although I can 
freely say I wish that he was not your friend.” 

He laughed mockingly. 

“Ah! You would perhaps like to direct my choice 
in regard to my associates? Truly, there is a certain 
humor in that. What are your reasons ?” 

*' As they would signify nothing to you, there is no 
necessity for my giving them.” 

“ None >vhatever ! But I cannot permit you to 
neglect the duties which the demands of hospitality have 
laid upon you. Remember, I do not wish Rhoden to 
have any further occasion to complain of your unfriendly 
bearing.” 

“ So far as I know, I have paid him every attention 
which I owed him. But I am in no condition, neither 
have I the desire, to simulate a regard which I do not 
feel.” 

She had scarcely ever before met her husband with 
such quiet decision as on this morning, when he could 
ill-brook any resistance whatever. While he had 
control enough over himself to remain quietly lean- 
ing against the mantel, his eyes flashed forth an angry 
fire, as he looked at the beautiful, earnest face before 
him. 

“ You appear to forget, my dear Elfriede, that in cer- 
tain matters, not so much your wishes as mine are to 
be considered. When I invite a guest to my house, 


158 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


whom I designate as my dearest friend, I am justified 
in expecting that you will not alone treat him with 
ordinary politeness, but with all the amiability and 
friendliness of which you are mistress. This may cost 
some exertion, which is to be deplored. But in any 
case, I command you not to let my friend notice that 
anything is lacking. I believe that in this particular I 
have set you an example of sacrifice by no means incon- 
siderable, and permit me to say that you will do well 
not to cause me to regret my self-abnegation.” 

This was said slowly and with a full calculation of its 
effect, and it was just this unmistakable, premeditated 
purpose which made it so painful for Elfriede to bear. 
And the old man in the window drew himself together 
as though he had received some bodily injury ; anxiously 
and breathlessly he glanced at his daughter. He knew 
his son-in-law’s ugly words could only be directed 
towards himself, and he feared that she would give an 
angry answer on his account. But their conversation 
was interrupted by a servant’s entrance with a letter for 
the Baron. Hardenegg changed color slightly as he 
saw the superscription. He went to the window as 
though he desired to peruse the missive without obser- 
vation, and after a lapse of several minutes he turned 
back toward his wife again. The frown in his fore- 
head had not disappeared, however, and the contraction 
of his eye-brows indicated a high state of excite- 
ment. 

“A great piece of news, Elfriede,” he said. “My 
mother informs me that I may look for her return in the 
near future.” 

The young wife rose quickly. A joyful expression 
broke over her whole face. 

“ So she has become reconciled at last. She has for- 
given you for — ” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


159 


Hardenegg interrupted her at once. “ My Mother is 
not well, and seems to have some presentiment of death 
and so wants to come home. She has at least written 
to me that she desires to close her eyes forever on the 
spot where she passed the happiest days of her life. At 
all events we may assume that she has accepted our 
marriage as an unalterable fact. It will assuredly take 
all your powers to make the reconciliation complete.” 

“ It shall certainly be no fault of mind if I fail, Kurt,” 
responded Elfriede, timidly, while his unkind manner 
forced the tears into her eyes. But Hardenegg appeared 
too much concerned about other matters to notice her 
agitation. 

“You will, of course, have to manifest some self-denial 
when she comes,” he continued, as he paced the room 
restlessly. “ My Mother has been undisputed mistress 
here too long for us to expect her to take a secondary 
place. It will be best for us all to remind her as little 
as possible of the changes which have taken place in her 
absence.” 

He glanced toward his father-in-law, who sat dumb 
with bent head and troubled face. 

“ And we must set about making some indispensable 
changes at once. It is above all necessary that the little 
garden salon should be restored to its former condi- 
tion.” 

Now the painter lifted his gray head with a start. 

“ My studio ?” he asked, half anxiously and half reprov- 
ingly. “ And where shall I go with my unfinished 
pictures ?” 

Hardenegg shrugged his shoulders impatiently. 

“ My God ! Can’t you find a suitable room some- 
where ? In the back part of the castle or in the right 
wing — ” 

The old man shook his gray head sadly. 


160 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ You remember, dear son, that the garden salon is 
the only large room with proper arrangements for light 
and shade. I had attempted painting in several others 
before I decided on that, you know.” ' 

“Well, I am very sorry, but I really cannot help you. 
My Mother often sat in that room during the day, and 
she would consider it a great lack of attention if she 
found it in its present disorderly condition. Her 
claims here are undoubtedly the oldest, and I cannot 
make her the victim of your fancies.” 

The old man stared at him with wide open eyes. A 
little gleam of the old fire which had once flashed from 
his eyes seemed now to glimmer in them. 

“ A fancy ? You call my art a fancy ?” 

“ Well, what good is there in wasting time over a few 
empty words or idle compliments? Haven’t you 
opportunities enough to hunt or fish or do half a dozen 
other things to kill time ? Must it be ever and always 
this unprofitable painting ?” 

He only sought some cause to show his anger, for 
Stiller had certainly not given him the slightest reason 
for such an attack. Elfriede stepped to her father’s side 
as though she would shield him from farther insult, and 
she looked steadily into Hardenegg’s flushed face. 
Stiller did not appear to have quite comprehended the 
cruel speech. 

“What do you say, dear son ? You are surely not in 
earnest. You call my paintings unprofitable? And yet 
it is scarcely three years since the picture which I sent 
to the Berlin Exhibition was sold the very first day. 
Even you said at the time that it was an extraordinary 
circumstance.” 

The Baron laughed spitefully. 

“ Kurt !” said Elfriede, pleadingly. But every word 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


161 


which she uttered to-day seemed but to arouse him to 
farther anger. 

“An extraordinary circumstance — indeed!” said he, 
in hard, cold tones. “ So extraordinary that it can 
never be repeated. My means are not sufficient to 
enable me to enact such a farce often.” 

“Your means?” The old man asked the question 
with wide, staring eyes, and his bearing was that of a 
person whose senses had been blunted by fright. “ You 
were the purchaser — you ?” 

“Certainly! Who else would it be? There would 
have been some difficulty in finding any other, I fancy.” 

The gray headed painter rose suddenly. The look of 
troubled timidity had left his face, and in its place was 
an expression of pride which had received a deadly 
insult. 

“And why, my son, why did you do this?” 

“ If you are too innocent to discover my motives, you 
should at least not compel me to disclose them.” 

“ But I will hear them. I have a right to learn what 
they are. Why did you buy the picture, and why did 
you keep it a secret ?” 

“ Because I did not wish my name to be held up to 
public ridicule. Because I did not wish every journey- 
man tailor in the land to make merry over the Baroness 
von Hardenegg’s father. And while we are talking on 
this subject, my worthy Herr Stiller, we may as well 
come to a clear understanding on another matter. I 
cannot, I am sorry to say, forbid you to paint or to place 
your pictures on exhibition, you will do that at your 
own discretion. But the changes which my Mother’s 
return necessitates will force me for the future to have 
less patience on another point than I have had in the 
past. Since you have resided at Buchwald the place 
has become by degrees an artists’ club-house. We have 


162 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


indeed had much pleasure in receiving some of your 
friends, but I cannot conceal the fact that their actions 
do not always convey the idea that their surroundings 
and manner of life are such as we are accustomed to 
here. So long as no one was disturbed by it I corld 
afford to look on silently. In the face of my Mother’s 
approaching return it will be my duty to call your atten- 
tion to this subject, in order that there may be no 
repetition of such visits in the future. It would not be 
agreeable to me to have my Mother find those prognosti- 
cations confirmed, which were indeed the cause of our 
estrangement at the time of my marriage.” 

Hardenegg had not attempted to weaken the force of 
his hurtful words by any friendly manner. He had 
spoken in cold, haughty tones without the least excite- 
ment, and his voice had assumed in the last sentence a 
sharp and an almost embittered, spiteful tone 

Elfriede, who had become deadly pale, was about to 
answer him ; but her father interrupted. He laid his 
trembling hand imploringly on her arm, and drawing a 
long breath he said, without looking at Hardenegg : 
“ Frau von Hardenegg shall never be annoyed by me, 
nor by # my plebeian friends, I can assure you, my son-in- 
law. And you can make the alterations in the studio as 
soon as you choose. My pictures will disgrace you no 
longer.” 

His energy of a moment since and the appearance of 
manly pride had all disappeared now. With sunken 
head he moved towards the door, evidently anxious to 
prevent Elfriede from accompanying him. 

“ Let me go, dear child. Let me go,” he begged. “ I 
am only going to take my accustomed walk.” 

Then the married pair were left alone. The Baron 
had stepped to the window and was looking attentively 
at the two riding horses which the groom was leading 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


163 


up and down the drive. He turned round apparently 
surprised when Elfriede spoke to him ; but his affected 
surprise quickly became a reality when he noticed the 
changed expression in her face. Her flashing eyes and 
drawn lips gave to her whole countenance an energy 
and force which he for the first time perceived. 

“You have in this hour forfeited every right to con- 
front me with your name and your noble birth. You 
have broken your promise most disgracefully to this old 
man, and your actions toward him since our marriage have 
been altogether unworthy of a nobleman. I will say 
to you that I shall expect from you the fulfillment of 
certain duties the like of which I shall discharge. That 
respect which is a parent’s due from a child, and which 
I shall give your mother, I shall also demand from you for 
my father ; and I claim it as my right that you should 
be mindful of the promises you made him when we 
were betrothed.” 

The angry color mounted into his cheeks, and he 
would undoubtedly have given her a violent answer 
had not Marguerite entered the room at that minute in 
her riding habit to take leave of her sister. While she 
was chatting gaily with his wife he left the apartment. 

His haughty, cold look left it uncertain whether he 
intended having any further conversation with Elfriede 
on the subject or not. Whether he felt that in this 
instance he was in the wrong, or whether he was too 
proud to justify himself against any accusation from 
her lips, could not be learned from his face. 


164 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


CHAPTER XI. 

Balthasar Stiller left the castle with weary heart and 
with heavy, slow steps. He did not respond to the greet- 
ing of a servant whom he passed, and it was just as well 
he took no notice, for he would have perceived the man’s 
disrespectful manner and mocking grin. Servants are 
never so keen as in respect to their masters’ temper, 
whether it be gracious or ungracious, towards a third 
person, and among the servants at Buchwald, from cellar 
to attic it had long been an open secret, that the father 
of their gracious mistress was not held in high esteem 
by the Baron. No one was much surprised at it, for the 
old man had not won their respect, and from the first 
day of his presence there he had been a subject for jest 
in the servants’ hall. The witty cook had called him 
an “ addleheaded idiot ” and this bit of choice humor 
had been taken up by the little circle and never 
been forgotten. 

Many sad truths had come home to the poor old man 
very early in his new life. In a few weeks all his gaiety 
and joy seemed to vanish, and he became a silent, intim- 
idated man, whose only care was to bury himself in 
the loneliness of his atelier, and who avoided no other 
company so anxiously as that of his son-in-law. Now 
and then one of his old-time friends sought him out, to 
have a smoke and chat, as they wandered through the 
castle grounds ; then something of his old-time spirit of 
fun and railery would return to him, but even at such 
times he had an anxious, suspicious looking countenance 
as though he feared he might even be debarred these 
harmless strolls. 


THE BREACH OF C T JSTOM. 


165 


“ If our old mistress was here,” the servants whispered 
significantly, “ he wouldn’t remain an hour in the house.” 

And in this assumption they were about correct. In 
the face of his mother’s immediate return it became 
evident to the Baron that Stiller’s presence was greatly 
to be deplored ; and no one knowing the old Baroness 
von Hardenegg could have doubted that she would 
resent it ; but the Baron had this morning struck his 
father-in-law a heavy, prostrating blow, from which, 
with his lack of strength, he could never again recover. 

He took the shortest cut across the magnificent park 
to one of the gates of exit, walking as rapidly as his 
trembling limbs would permit. He looked neither to 
the right nor to the left, and from time to time unin- 
telligible, disjointed words came from his lips. 

The morning was cool, but the fever of excitement 
within him seemed to burn with an overwhelming fire, 
and as he passed the lodge gate he took off his broad, 
felt hat. He had taken a few steps into the wood which 
surrounded the park when he turned suddenly as though 
he had made a mistake. 

“Not here,” he muttered, “ not on his ground.” 

One could see him from the glittering windows of the 
castle as he made his way slowly and with halting step 
along the narrow meadow path which led up to the 
thickly wooded heights beyond. 

This far-reaching, dark forest was the property of the 
crown, and Balthasar Stiller could enjoy its majestic 
beauties without feeling that even this walk was a gall- 
ing benefit received from his son-in-law. He could, at 
least, take some satisfaction in choosing this steep and 
wearisome way. When he found himself at last within 
the deep-shaded woods, he sank down upon a moss-cov- 
ered stone, in order to recover from his exhaustion. As 
far as eye could reach, the restful, peaceful valley lay 


16(5 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


beneath him. When he had first seen it four years ago, 
brilliant with the glory of the setting sun, he had been 
in ecstacies, and had thrown up his hat with an unre- 
strained cry of joy at the sight of this earthly paradise. 
And now — after this short time — he longed for his bare, 
unadorned atelier again, and the outlook from the poor 
attic over the city roofs with their high chimneys and 
wretched sweeps would have been more attractive to him 
than all this luxuriant magnificence, upon which he, a 
troublesome intruder, could never more have any claim. 
And he cursed it all from the bottom of his soul, because 
he saw in it the cause of all his misery. With a deep 
groan he covered his face with his hands. Just then he 
heard the step of a man approaching through the under- 
brush and breaking the fallen branches as he trod on 
them. He glanced up hastily, and did not in his bewil- 
derment respond at once to the greeting of the tall, young 
man who was passing near him. He was dressed like a 
head-forester, but Stiller did not remember ever having 
seen him before, and he was not in the humor to worry 
his head about the stranger. Rising with an exertion, 
he went at hap-hazard deeper into the forest. This 
moment’s disturbance had affected him unpleasantly, 
for he wished to be alone, quite alone, with his nameless 
sorrow. How heavily his former, inconceivable blind- 
ness and infatuation lay upon his soul this morning. Oh, 
that he had been able to foresee all this on that day 
-when the brilliant young officer had deluded him 
with promises which he might have known were too 
surprising and too extravagant ever to be fulfilled. And 
now was he not getting his well deserved punishment 
for his foolish credulity and reprehensible conceit? 
Truly, he had not known the world and his childlike 
trust had been his undoing. He had indeed believed 
that the happiness which had appeared so suddenly 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


167 


before his eyes, and irf such an attractive form, would 
last forever ; but it was of his child's happiness that he 
thought most ; he had certainly never intended that his 
loved one should become the victim of a sacrifice for 
mere riches, instigated by any selfish longing of his own. 

And now this supposed happiness had proved itself to 
be only a frenzied delusion. True, the glittering exte- 
rior was the same, but a miserable skeleton was hidden 
away in the background. Yes, he knew long ago that 
Elfriede was not happy, no matter how bravely she tried 
to hide her sorrows from his eyes. Hardenegg’s undis- 
guised indifference and his, at times, rough conduct 
towards his young wife, together with his frivolous and 
dissipated manner of life, had been no secret to his 
father-in-law ; and it grieved him still more when he 
observed Elfriede’s silence and submission, and realized 
with horror and shame the part he had taken in bringing 
upon her this sorrow. He it was who had been the 
author of all her trouble ; it was for his sake she had 
made the marriage, and for that very reason she would 
not confide in him. He would not have felt that her life 
was made miserable had he not seen it clearly written 
in her face, but now he was reproaching himself continu- 
ally for the sorrow which her eyes could not hide. 
To-day he was so humiliated and ashamed that he felt 
he never dare look his daughter in the eyes again. The 
deep silence which surrounded him had no soothing 
effect ; but as he brooded over these last years he grew 
more despondent and desperate. Without noticing 
whither he went, he plunged still deeper into the forest, 
unmindful of the thorny underbrush which caught in his 
hair and cut his hands. On he went, deeper, and still 
deeper into the thick wood, as if he would escape from 
some unseen enemy, and with the half-unconscious desire 
to put miles between himself and that haunting grief 


168 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


which was always in waiting for him within the walls of 
Buchwald. 

It was one of nature’s barricades which finally brought 
him to a halt. Between the tree trunks he saw a dark, 
glistening body of water. In another moment he stood 
breathless with quick beating heart on the edge of a 
quiet little lake surrounded on all sides by the dark 
woods. This deadly sheet of water was unlike the usual 
woodland lake, and had for the past hundred years 
been called the “ Black Lake.” Stiller had seldom come 
this way before, but now he remembered that it played 
a ghastly role in all the tales and legends which the 
folk of that region related. Its depths had never been 
ascertained, and no living thing had ever been seen 
beneath its smooth, glittering surface. Its dark waters 
were also said to possess both magical and poisonous 
qualities. 

Stiller threw himself down on the steep bank, and 
resting his chin in his hands stared long and fixedly at 
^ the silent, mysterious waters beneath him. The thoughts 
which had overwhelmed him as he had rushed through 
these woods now forced new and almost frightful fan- 
cies upon him. Had not fate led him to this place, to this 
bottomless sea which never gave up its dead ? Was not all 
sorrow and humiliation ended with one stroke, if he only 
had the courage to take this one little step which would 
bringjto him deliverance and peace ? After the morning’s 
bitter reflections and disillusions, he had nothing to 
expect or to look forward to in life. Perhaps this was the 
only service of love which he was able to render his daugh- 
ter. Now when he recognized, in its entirety, how 
deep was the aversion which Hardenegg felt for him, the 
conviction forced itself upon him more and more, that 
he was the cause of the estrangement between Elfriede 
and her husband, and that with his death all barriers 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


169 


would be broken down, and for the future their life 
would be one of happiness and complete accord. 

The dark waters bewitched the old man, and his hot, 
dull eyes seemed fascinated by their sorcery. It was as 
if some unseen power compelled him to seek beneath 
the silent bosom of the lake the place of eternal and 
undisturbed peace. Under these sombre waves he 
might slumber on in peace, until the coming of that 
great day when there would be no longer any distinction 
between the high and the low, the rich and the poor. 
Doubtless his body would never be found, and no one 
would ever know in what manner he had disappeared 
forever from earthly view. There would be no burial 
service at his open grave, no tears, no lamentations ; 
that was what he would wish, and it took from him all 
horror of his purpose. He was useless and burdensome, 
and it seemed fitting that he should slip quietly from a 
world in which there was for him no place. If there 
were no room for him to pursue his beloved art in the 
ancestral halls of the Hardeneggs, surely there would 
be no place for his poor body in their family vaults. 
He would not run the risk of further reproof at 
Buchwald — where henceforth even his very friends 
would be excluded — no, but he would prove to this 
arrogant noble that there was no further need of his 
benefactions. 

Balthasar Stiller rose and took a few steps down the 
bank. There was one spot where the ground stretched 
a little distance out into the water, and on this little 
point stood an immense fir tree which had been growing 
there a hundred years or more. The dark fragrant 
branches moved gently to and fro in the air as they bent 
forward over the water’s edge, and perhaps when the 
autumn storms came again would disappear forever 
beneath its surface. 


170 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


Here was the best place to make the final plunge. A 
little spring from one of these knarled, far reaching 
branches and all was over. The buzzard circling far 
above would be the only witness to this piteous tragedy. 
Without delay he climbed out as far as he could on one 
of the old branches. Then he glanced around with glit- 
tering, insane-looking eyes. There was nothing to 
prevent the fulfilment of his design, nothing to keep 
him in this sorrowful world. In his bitter melancholy 
he thought no other place could have been so well 
suited for this purpose of self-destruction — unattractive, 
silent and dark — a fitting spot from which to enter the 
great unknown. Suddenly from the depth of the wood 
there came to him the sound like the whistle of a bird. 
Involuntarily he turned toward the place from which the 
sound came, but in doing so he lost his balance. 
Instinctively he clutched the heavy limb of the tree, but 
his hand found nothing to which he could hold, and 
with a cry he fell into the waters beneath. 

The loud sound of the splashing waters, as the body 
fell, echoed through the silent woods. The waters 
parted for a moment and then rushed together again 
like ocean waves, and with such eager rapidity that it 
did in truth seem as if they would hide forever all trace 
of the gray head which had but a second before 
disappeared. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


171 


CHAPTER XII. 

A few minutes after Herr Stiller had entered the 
woods, Rhoden and Marguerite rode slowly down the 
sandy carriage road which skirted the edge of them. 
The Baron, with his well proportioned graceful figure, 
sat his magnificent horse as he alone knew how to do, 
and looked both handsome and distinguished, while 
Marguerite’s bearing showed that she kept her seat in 
the saddle with no such feeling of security as a skilled 
rider should possess. In spite of this she appeared to 
enjoy her ride. Her cheeks were highly flushed, her 
eyes were sparkling, and with gay laughter she answered 
the joking sallies of her cavalier. Two large mastiffs, 
the Baron’s special favorites who always accompanied 
him on his rides, ran and jumped and played around 
them. 

At the edge of the wood, Rhoden drew his rein. “ It 
is so lovely here,” he said. “And I know a very roman- 
tic way through the forest.” 

With loud bark and clamor the dogs rushed in and 
out among the trees. The Baron had to whistle repeat- 
edly to call them back to him, for the forest scent made 
the hot blooded animals long for a little chase of their 
own. 

And it was their continued yelping which attracted 
the attention of a third person to the riders. The man 
who had greeted Balthasar Stiller so courteously, and 
was now coming from the depth of the forest, had struck 
the same path as Rhoden ; but when he saw the Baron 
an expression of intense repugnance was noticeable on 
his open, handsome countenance. 


172 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ This has at length become unendurable ! I will have 
to prove to this Baron that he must have some respect 
for the law.” 

He raised his fine double barreled gun ready for use, 
and stepped out from the underbrush full in view of 
those approaching, and caught Rhoden unawares. Now, 
for the first time, he saw that the Baron was not alone. 
At this discovery the young man pressed his lips more 
tightly together and the wrinkles between his brown 
eyes became deeper. With the attentiveness of quiet 
anger his eye followed the young maiden, and noticed 
with what courtesy Rhoden treated her ; how he held 
her bridle and directed the horse’s course, and how in 
breaking off branches and holding them back for her, 
he would almost unconsciously, it seemed, stroke her 
hair. Of this Marguerite herself was scarcely conscious. 
It did not, however, escape the eyes of the unseen wit- 
ness, and his drawn lips proved that to him the sight 
was absolutely painful. He must now change his 
former purpose, and he threw his gun again over his 
shoulder as the dogs came barking up to him. 

Rhoden had now caught sight of him and was 
instantly aware of the uncomfortable predicament in 
which he was placed, for he turned to Marguerite and 
said, in a low tone : “ Do not be frightened, Fraulein 
Marguerite, if you should become the witness of a 
rather dramatic scene. We — particularly the dogs — 
are trespassing upon forbidden ground. And that 
king’s head-forester yonder is such a new hand in his 
important office, that he — as Hardenegg says — has the 
presumption of his class, and gets his back up at 
nothing. I am quite curious to see whether he will 
make a show of his new dignity for me or not.” 

He turned his horse so that it headed directly toward 
the place where the officer was standing. Marguerite 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


173 


had followed the direction of his glance while he was 
yet speaking sneeringly of the man, and discovered that 
he was no other than the one with whom she had been 
compelled to refuse to dance on the day of her sister’s 
wedding. She had scarcely exchanged a dozen words 
with him then ; and had never seen him once in the 
four years which had elapsed since then. When she 
recognized in the youthful, manly, head-forester the 
Inspector Reinach, the insignificant circumstance of the 
long forgotten dance came back to her mind with full 
force. 

And she did not strive to conceal the fact that the 
surprise was a pleasurable one. Giving her horse rein 
she was by Reinach’s side almost as soon as Rhoden. 
Smiling she nodded to him, evidently ready to respond 
to any word of greeting which she might receive. 
Rhoden’s half-whispered words of a moment before 
appeared to her now only a joke, and if she attached 
any significance whatever to them, it was so little that 
she had no thought of treating the irritated officer in 
any other manner than as a pleasant acquaintance. But 
the smile quickly disappeared from her face when she 
saw that Reinach had no thought of answering her 
expectations. She had the consciousness, however, that 
he must have recognized her, for he looked her full in 
the face with a clear and earnest glance ; but his greet- 
ing was cold and formal, only such as the barest civility 
required, and even to this she was too astonished and 
confused to respond. As she rode past him the deep 
color mounted to her cheeks, and the hot tears forced 
themselves again to her eyes, as on the wedding evening. 
But she struggled to keep them back, for this time she 
was conscious of no wrong doing, and if this forester 
had not forgiven a little fashionable deception of years 
past, why, he could do his own pleasure. There was 


174 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


certainly no occasion for her to trouble herself further 
over his unfriendly attitude. 

She, of course, did not see what had occurred behind 
her, and she would have looked in vain for the dramatic 
scene which Rhoden had prophesied. Not a word was 
exchanged between the two men. The Baron had not 
taken his eyes off Marguerite’s face. Neither had her 
sunny smile escaped him, nor the sudden rush of color 
to her cheeks. Whether he put the correct construction 
or not upon all this, could not be discovered from his 
manner. With a mocking smile and a glance of 
unspeakable enmity toward Reinach, he forced his 
horse as near as possible toward the head-forester. It 
seemed as if the officer’s threatening glance was all that 
restrained the wise animal from obeying, as implicitly as 
usual, the direction given by his master’s rein. And 
this glance did not seem without its effect even upon 
Rhoden. 

At any rate he felt enough impressed by the silent 
command to whistle his dogs, who were still yelping 
through the forest, back to him at once. 

The head-forester looked after the riders for a few 
seconds, and then turned back in the direction from 
which he had come. He went along a narrow deer-path 
almost covered with underbrush, until he came to a 
point where a sheet of water showed plainly between 
the trees. Soon the still, dark lake became more dis- 
tinct, and he was on the point of turning aside, to take 
another path still deeper in the wood, when he heard 
a strange sound not unlike a man’s deep groan, and 
halted to listen more attentively, for he felt he Could not 
be far from the spot from whence the sound had come. 
He took a few hurried steps to a slight elevation from 
which he could gain a view of part of the “ haunted ” 
lake. And what he now saw overwhelmed him with 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


175 


surprise and apprehension. Gray-haired Balthasar 
Stiller, with whose singular appearance he had long 
been familiar, was climbing out on the knarled branch 
,pf a fir tree which overshadowed the water, and from 
his wild look there could be scarcely any doubt as to 
his object. He recognized at the same time that it 
would be at least two minutes before he could reach 
him. If he could only succeed in some way in making 
him delay his suicidal plunge, he might reach him in 
time to prevent the execution of his insane design. But 
if he called to him his voice would probably have an 
opposite effect, so he only gave a shrill whistle. 

That the result of his good intentions did not answer 
his expectations was surely not his fault. Balthasar 
Stiller was attracted by the whistle, but his hasty turn 
lost him his narrow foothold. Reinach heard his cry, 
and saw his fall into the water. While he gave no 
credence to the peasants’ idle tales, still he was well 
aware that this was an ugly sheet of water. He knew 
that all the danger lay at its bottom, where the thick 
mass of slimy growths might hold the body, and that it 
would be a much more dangerous undertaking to rescue 
a man who had fallen in this still lake, than one who 
had been plunged into a swift, flowing river. But not- 
withstanding all this, he lost no time in tearing his way 
through the wood and underbrush, and reached the 
shore only a sew seconds after Stiller’s fall. The great 
circles were yet forming, aad the dark water still splash- 
ing, but this time it put to shame the old legends of its 
pitilessness ; for before the old painter had lost con- 
sciousness he felt himself seized by the back and pulled 
energetically from the water ; and almost before he 
could realize what had befallen him, he had been 
rescued from a watery grave and laid upon the bank, 
with the blue heavens above him and the branches of 


176 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


the very tree which had had for him such an insane 
fascination, drooping over him and greeting him as one 
just returned from the land of shadows. 

Reinach would have busied himself to make the ol<j 
man more comfortable, but Stiller made a motion of 
dissent and exerted himself with all his returning 
strength to rise to a sitting posture. 

“An unlucky accident — ” he stammered. “ I was just 
botanizing a little ; I have you to thank for saving my 
life, my dear sir, and I — I — ” 

“ Pray do not exert yourself, Herr Stiller,” the other 
interrupted, quietly, for he saw that the poor old man 
was weary and breathless. “ I noticed that you were in 
search of plants, or something of the sort. Fortunately, 
my house is not far distant, and I trust you will soon, 
with my assistance, be in a condition to get to it.” 

“ It is certainly very friendly of you to do all this for 
me, sir. And you yourself noticed that I — that I — ” 

“ That you have to thank your lack of caution for this 
unwilling bath — -of course,” said Reinach, in confident, 
reassuring tones. “If that black lake was half as bad 
as its name you would never have seen Buchwald 
again.” 

A shiver went through the old man’s frame as though 
he was struck with the fever. He stared into the dark 
water with her calm, leaden surface, and he could not 
conceive that he ever had had the courage to seek for 
peace and rest beneath it. Before Reinach could come 
to his aid he was on his feet again. 

m “ I am ready — I am ready,” he said, evidently anxious 
to turn his back upon this unearthly spot. “ If you will 
give me your arm, I trust I shall be able to go a half 
mile or even further.” 

It was only the head forester’s strength which enabled 
them to accomplish their journey, for after a few steps 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


ITT 


Balthasar Stiller’s body began to sway, and Reinach 
put his arm around him and half supported, half carried 
him forward, until they saw the gates and little tower 
of the attractive, modern looking forestry which Rein- 
ach occupied. 

A quarter of an hour later, Herr Stiller, relieved of 
his wet clothing, and well wrapped in blankets, lay upon 
the sofa in Reinach’s comfortable, simply-furnished 
living room. His body had been warmed and revived 
by a drink which his rescuer had brought to him and 
insisted on his swallowing. Then he had been left 
alone and ordered to sleep, but the nervous tension and 
excitement of the last few hours drove all sleep from his 
eyes. He fell gradually into a happy, half-unconscious, 
dreamy state, with a sense of comfort which he had not 
enjoyed since the day he left his attic home in the city. 
Here there was no luxury and scarcely a single embel- 
lishment. But in everything there breathed the spirit 
of perfect order and silent contentment, which he had 
never found in the sumptuous apartments in Castle 
Buchwald. And through the high windows the thick, 
branching forest trees, with their fresh, pungent odors, 
caught the sunlight, and softened and subdued it ere 
its beams penetrated into the pleasant little room. 

“ It is good to be here.” That was the single thought 
that possessed the tortured soul of the old painter in 
this hour. He listened to the monotonous ticking of 
the pendulum which swung to and fro in the old- 
fashioned black wooden clock, and the longing came 
over him to live for all future time in this forest retreat, 
and bury himself in the peaceful woodland loneliness. % 

Then the door was opened softly and the head-for- 
ester’s clear grave eyes were looking at him. 

‘‘You are a disobedient invalid, my dear Herr Stiller,” 
he said, pleasantly, as he took his short pipe from his 


178 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


mouth and entered the room. “ Did I not enjoin you, 
as your physician, to take a sound sleep ?” 

His listener nodded to him and stretched out his hand 
toward him. 

“ Heaven reward you for your goodness to an old 
fool,” he said. “ And now tell me, if you please, whether 
you are a man of flesh and bone or the guardian spirit 
of this forest ? It all seems to me like a fairy vision.” 

“ Ah, but the fairy visions come to us but seldom in 
our waking moments. I am most assuredly the guardian 
of these woods, but there is little of the shadowy spirit 
about me. I have the honor to present myself to you as 
the Head-Forester Reinach.” 

“ So — so ! and how, if I may ask, did you learn my 
name ?” 

“ Four years ago I was your son-in-law’s guest at 
Buchwald at the time of your daughter’s marriage.” 

The mention of Hardenegg was the first bitter drop 
in the historical painter’s cup, since he had entered 
this house. He sighed and turned his face towards 
the wall. Reinach need be no sorcerer to discover 
that something had occurred at Castle Buchwald to dis- 
turb the family peace. So he hastened to relieve the 
painful silence. 

Your daughter must be anxious concerning your 
absence,” he continued, “ so I have just sent a messenger 
to acquaint her with your whereabouts, and to request 
a carriage to be sent for you. It is unfortunate that I 
have none which I could place at your disposal.” 

Balthasar Stiller turned toward him frightened. 

“ You have sent to Buchwald ?” he asked, hastily. 
“ And Herr von Hardenegg will learn what has become 
of me ?” 

“ I addressed my note to Fraulein Marguerite Stiller, 
and I said a slight accident had occurred, owing to a 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


179 


mis-step ; some explanation was necessary to account 
for your wet clothing. Perhaps your younger daughter 
will not think it incumbent on her to worry her sister by 
repeating what I have written.” 

He did not add, that he had requested her in his short, 
polite, but curt note, to say nothing about it. But 
Balthasar Stiller was acute enough to recognize this 
stranger’s tender feeling, and deeply touched and full of 
thankfulness, he seized his hands. 

“ I shall never be able to repay you — never ; but surely 
I shall not forget it. No, no, let me speak,” as Reinach 
attempted to silence him. “ I cannot trust any one in 
the whole world, and I should be sorry to have you form 
a bad opinion of me. But believe me, my young friend, 
when a man of my age, who throughout his long life has 
passed through many sad hours is driven to such straits, 
he must be hard pressed. He should not be condemned 
too hastily — no, no, that would be a great injustice.” 

“ Do I look like one who would be inclined to con- 
demn a fellow creature so lightly ? and that, too, when 
he is an old man whose gray hairs should be respected? 
No, no, my dear Herr Stiller, you can in this instance 
rest entirely satisfied, and I beg you, from my heart, not 
to think there is any necessity to exculpate yourself in 
my eyes, for there is certainly no need for explanation 
in regard to what you will undoubtedly, sooner or later, 
regret. I sincerely trust that the grounds for your 
momentary depression of spirits will soon become things 
of the past.” 

In Reinach’s manner there was a quiet, manly straight- 
forwardness which had an impressive effect upon the 
weak nature of the old painter. A feeling of security 
and safety came over him in the presence of this sel*f- 
reliant, young man which was very grateful to him, but 
made him feel all the more fearful at the thought of so 


180 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


soon leaving him. Suddenly an inspiration seemed to 
come to him, and he turned with childish confidence to 
his host. 

“ You have saved me from that cursed water, but you 
can do more for me than that, if you feel disposed to 
show me a little friendship or sympathy. Is there any 
little room in this house which I could call my own, and 
to which I could at times escape for quiet and loneli- 
ness. You do not know how miserable a man is who 
has no such quiet corner to which he can escape. And 
here — here it is so delightful I wish I need never leave 
it.” 

Over the forester’s sun-burned face passed an expres- 
sion which showed he was deeply moved. 

‘ The house will be open to you at any hour, Herr 
Stiller,” he said, cordially, “and if you would like to 
paint here, in peace and quiet, I have a well-lighted 
room on the ground floor, which I have occasionally 
used for the same purpose and which is at your dis- 
posal.” 

Stiller would undoubtedly have risen to thank and 
embrace his host, had not a knock on the door brought 
their conversation abruptly to an end. A servant made 
an announcement in a low tone to Reinach, and the lat- 
ter left the room hurriedly. 

An elegant, light landau from Buchwald stood in 
front of the house and its occupant had just sprung 
out of it. A deep color overspread her lovely counte- 
nance as the head-forester came out to meet her. A 
shy glance met his earnest face as he advanced, and oblit- 
erated from his mind for the moment all memory of the 
father who must be shielded from suspicions concerning 
his accident at the lake. 

“ I have followed your directions without delay,” said 
Marguerite, in a clear, ringing voice, “ and I hope you 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


181 


were honest in writing me there that was no occasion 
for anxiety on my father’s account.” 

“ There was not the slightest reason for concern, 
Fraulein. Only his clothes were wet, and as mine 
would not fit him, it was impossible for him to return at 
once to Buchwald. But will you not do me the honor 
to come into the house for a short time ?” 

His words were very polite, but just as cold and 
formal as his greeting of the morning in the woods. 
And Marguerite, who did not, of course, know how 
much thanks she owed this man standing opposite 
her, felt a great inclination to assume the defensive 
against him. 

“I will remain here until my father is ready to 
return home,” she replied. “ Will you kindly show the 
servant where to find him, for we have brought him a 
change of clothing.” 

The head-forester motioned to a lad in his service, to 
show the Buchwald valet where to find Herr Stiller. 
To Marguerite’s surprise, and a little, perhaps, to her 
annoyance also, Reinach made no attempt to leave his 
place by the carriage. 

“ How did the accident happen to my poor father ?” 
she asked, without looking at him, for Reinach had 
shown no inclination to continue the conversation. “ I 
cannot understand how he came to stray so far away 
from the park where he generally walks.” 

“ I am not able to give you any information about it. 
Fraulein, but it does not seem to me at all strange, 
The royal forest has evidently a great attraction for 
others at Buchwald, also. The Baron von Rhoden places 
himself in a position, day after day, to suffer a heavy 
penalty.” 

Marguerite laughed. “ A heavy penalty ! Do you 


182 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


think then that a tine of a few thalers would be a severe 
punishment for him ?” 

“ That was not exactly my meaning ; but I do not think 
the Baron would be altogether indifferent if either 
myself, or one of my officers, should shoot his magnifi- 
cent hounds.” 

“ What ? Shoot ? No, you are not in earnest ! Even 
if such a barbarous law existed, you would surely not 
be capable of injuring such innocent animals who are, 
withal, so wise and constant ?” 

“ I should do it on the dogs’ account with a heavy 
heart ; but I have above everything the duty of my 
office to fulfil, and Herr von Rhoden knows the regula- 
tions very well. He has paid no attention to a warning 
which I sent him several days ago ; perhaps it will 
make a deeper impression upon him if you tell him that 
the next time he takes his dogs through the forest 
over which I have control they will surely lose their lives.” 

“ Ah, that is shameful !” cried Marguerite ; “the per- 
petrator of such a deed would be little better than a 
murderer !” 

The bearded lips of her listener were drawn a little, 
but Marguerite did not rightly read their compression, 
and imagined he was scarcely concealing a scornful 
smile ; she began to have a feeling of real antipathy 
toward this haughty and heartless man. 

“I shall have to ask you to find another than myself 
to make this communication to Baron von Rhoden,” she 
continued, “and it would have simplified matters greatly 
if you -had had the courage to acquaint the Baron with 
your purpose when you met him face to face.” 

Both manner and words showed plainly that she con- 
sidered him cowardly, but Reinach did not see fit to 
resent her insulting remark. He made the irritated girl 
a polite, perhaps an ironical bow, and then casting his 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


183 


eyes towards the house, said : “ Ah, here is your father ! 
You see he is all right.” 

Marguerite looked on in surprise as her father parted 
so cordially from his new friend. And this parting 
would have been of much longer continuance, had not 
Reinach released himself forcibly from the old man’s 
embraces and returned into the house. 

His parting greeting to Marguerite was nothing more 
than a cool, distant bow which the girl felt more keenly 
than any unfriendly word he could have spoken. As he 
disappeared in his pretty, picturesque home, the feeling 
that by her thoughtless brusqueness she had perhaps 
made an enemy of a man whose friendship she would 
have craved, came over her with a painful, depressing 
sensation. 

With close attention and deep interest she listened to 
her father’s explanation of his slip from the tree bough, 
and the head-forester’s bravery, and the risk he ran in 
coming to his rescue. As Balthasar Stiller continued 
his tale, her color changed from pale to red and from 
red to pale, and she inwardly bemoaned the fate which 
had made her late conversation end so unpleasantly. 
Of one thing she was convinced, he had a deep and 
unconquerable aversion for herself. And it was with 
a heavy heart that she resolved that for the future she 
would try to be more circumspect. 


184 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

Castle Buchwald was all excitement and bustle, and 
the servants ran hither and thither, preparing the long 
neglected rooms of the Baron’s mother, for that dame’s 
reception. Hardenegg himself superintended much of 
the work and bestowed both time and attention upon the 
most trifling details. He acted as a very dutiful and 
thoughtful son should do, who was anxious for the 
comfort and pleasure of the home returning parent, and 
he seemed, in the fulfilment of this child’s duty, to have 
a certain jealous feeling that he might be deprived of 
his rights. When Elfriede gave any order in regard to 
the appointments or adornment of a room, he immedi- 
ately interfered and gave contrary directions, declaring 
that he knew best his mother’s wishes and desires. 

The young wife silently conformed to his wishes with- 
out manifesting any of that anoyance which would have 
been excusable under existing circumstances. Her 
father’s atelier, his only retreat, had been the first room 
sacrificed in this revolution of affairs. He had scarcely 
been given time to remove his belongings, and a servant 
had bundled them together in a small, upper room, in 
which it was needless for him to think of continuing his 
artistic labors. But he had witnessed it all with a tran- 
quillity which was in marked contrast to his former 
excitement. Thanks to the head-forester, .Elfriede had 
heard nothing about the accident at the lake, but had 
she heard it, she would not have been deceived as to her 
father’s desperate motive in going there ; and the secret 
fear with which she had, for some time, regarded his 
actions after every stormy scene, had been allayed in 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


185 


some measure by his mildness. In his acquiescence she 
read no other explanation than that his reason had told 
him that submission to the inevitable was his only course. 
Neither she nor any of the others at the castle noticed 
that he spent little of his time within its walls these days, 
but would sally forth early in the morning with a great 
roll or portfolio under his arm and disappear in the 
thickly wooded park beyond. Nor did any one suspect 
that the forester’s lad was in waiting in the thicket to 
relieve him of his heavy package and lead the way for 
him through the crown forests. Balthasar Stiller felt 
that he had achieved much when he had removed all 
his artist’s belongings to the new studio at the head-for- 
ester’s. The success of his plan and his ability to accom- 
plish it all without his son-in-law’s knowledge was a 
great satisfaction to him. In his mind he had already 
designed a new picture; and he had fully decided in 
his heart that this new creation should be his master- 
piece, for he would make it his vindication and his 
revenge. If he could make his daughter’s husband 
acknowledge, that the spark of genius which nature had 
implanted in his breast was of as much value as a noble 
escutcheon, or even a princely fortune, then Hardenegg 
would be compelled to retract his vain boastings and 
come to him with humble apologies. And the price 
which he should receive for this great picture he 
would give over to the Baron von Hardenegg, and then 
he would once more feel a free, unshackled man, 
who could command the unqualified respect of his 
fellows. 

So dreamed Balthasar Stiller, and his air-castles 
towered so high in the heavens, that he, gazing at their 
dizzy heights, forgot all the vexations and humiliations of 
the daily life to which he was subjected. 


186 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


Two days before the arrival of the dowager Baroness, 
Baron von Rhoden departed. The great races of the 
year were soon to come off, and he was so much inter- 
ested, and had so much at stake, that he wished to be 
on the ground, and go over the course with his own 
racers, at least, a few days before the important event. 
In the meantime there had been no change in his 
friendly intercourse with Marguerite Stiller. He had 
made no declaration, neither had Hardenegg and he 
held any further nocturnal conversations on the delicate 
subject. 

“ I will see you at the races ?” he had said to his 
host as they shook hands at parting, and Hardenegg had 
responded with peculiar emphasis : 

“Certainly. It is unpleasant for me to have to leave 
my mother on the first day after her return, but you 
know that I must, at least, be at the North German 
Derby.” 

“Very good — so farewell until then. I hope we’ll be 
successful in our ventures.” 

The Baron nodded to him with a somewhat bitter 
smile, and as he turned back to Buchwald he sighed 
deeply, as if his heart were heavy within him. 

The old Baroness was to be received like a princess, 
and the pompous preparations were in great contrast to 
the quiet coming of the pale-faced bride and her family, 
the night before the wedding, four years before. The 
Baron and his wife went to the station to meet her in a 
carriage drawn by four horses. He had donned his 
uniform, which he never wore now except on the 
Emperor’s birthday ; and the servants’ liveries, and the 
trappings of the horses glittered like gold and silver in 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


187 


the sunlight. Elfriede had arrayed herself in her most 
costly toilette, but it was too simple to suit her husband, 
and he looked at her with a mocking, displeased expres- 
sion not to be misunderstood. 

He evidently made an effort to have his temper corres- 
pond with the joyful preparations, but, for all that, he 
was taciturn, easily irritated, and full of a nervous 
unrest. At short intervals he would glance at his watch, 
and his whole bearing was that of a man who wished 
that an unavoidable unpleasantness was well over. Of 
his wife, who in this trying hour needed his friendly 
assurances and loving support, he never for one moment 
thought. Silent, he sat by her side during their cheer- 
less ride, and when they reached the station, he 
descended hastily from his seat, leaving the footman to 
assist her to alight. 

Elfriede was pale, but her beautiful face showed 
neither fear nor unusual excitement. With quiet self- 
possession she followed her husband into the little wait- 
ing room which Hardenegg paced restlessly during the 
few minutes which elapsed before the arrival of the 
train. When the signal bell finally sounded, he put his 
helmet hastily back upon his head, and as he gave his 
wife his arm she heard him murmur half-aloud, ‘ At 
last !’ The train was now visible as it rounded an edge 
of the wood, and a few seconds later the locomotive 
came puffing and snorting into the little station. The 
station master, aware of the aristocratic personage who 
was expected by this train, hurried to open the door of 
the first class coupe, and Hardenegg, whose face had 
suddenly grown a deep red, followed after him immedi- 
ately. 

“ Welcome, a hearty welcome, dearest Mamma !” he 
cried, hastily, as the tall figure of his mother descended 


188 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


from the compartment. “ Let me thank you a thousand 
times for your amiable decision !” 

Without a word of reply, Frau von Hardenegg 
received his tender embraces. She bore herself with the 
same aristocratic dignity and hauteur as on the day 
when she had last seen her son at Buchwald ; and if the 
lines in her face had deepened a little within the last 
four years, she certainly showed no signs of any fatal 
illness. And never had that cold, aristocratic looking 
countenance seemed more severe in expression than at 
the moment when Elfriede stepped up to her, and bent 
over to kiss the slender, white hand. 

“ I scarcely expected that you would take the trouble 
* to come,” sounded the low trained voice in hard and icy 
tones in answer to her daughter-in-law’s few words of 
greeting. “ You must pardon an old woman for disturb- 
ing, for a short time, your family circle, because she 
wishes to die in her former home and in the arms of her 
son.” 

She took Hardenegg’s arm and brushed past Elfriede, 
into whose cheeks the blood had rushed painfully. If 
the young wife had had any idea that her husband’s 
mother was returning home with a heart full of love, 
and with a desire for reconciliation and peace, surely 
these first few words dispelled forever all such foolish 
illusions. The very sound of her voice and the icy stare 
which accompanied her words left no doubt as to her 
unalterable enmity towards her son’s wife. Hardenegg 
must unquestionably have known it too,, as he stood a 
dumb witness to this meeting between mother and wife. 
But he made no attempt to mend matters by any word 
of mediation, or to shield Elfriede in any way from the 
mortification and humiliation which she was forced to 
feel. He considered it his duty to treat his mother with 
all consideration and attention, but the picture of the 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


189 


future which came into the young wife’s soul at this 
moment, was not tinted with very brilliant colors. 

Much more painful than their drive to the station, 
was the return journey to Elfriede. Hardenegg strove 
to appear calm and collected, and at the same time very 
jubilant over his mother’s return. He assured her over 
and over again that she would not find Buchwald 
changed in the least, and how happy he would be if she 
would only forget the stretch of time between her 
departure and her home coming. 

Frau von Hardenegg listened with a bitter smile, and 
finally interrupted his storm of words with the sharp, 
clear-toned observation : “ Why should we trouble our- 
selves to use such fine phrases, my son ? How could I 
possibly ever forget that of which I shall be reminded 
every hour of the day. I can well believe that you ear- 
nestly long for my comfort ; but, unfortunately, we 
human beings cannot, when startling changes occur, 
act as though nothing had happened, and my only 
endeavor will be to acquiesce and submit in silence.” 

And as she spoke these words, fraught with resignation 
and sorrow, her face showed that she had returned 
ready for battle, for a hard, merciless contest, which 
would only end with her own overthrow, or with the 
total annihilation of her adversary. That this adversary 
was no other than the beautiful young wife of her son, 
who sat by her side, pale and silent, there could be no 
doubt ; and yet the Baron saw no occasion to give his 
wife an encouraging glance or a friendly pressure of the 
hand, or in any way to let her know that in the hour of 
her need she could rely upon his love, or look to him 
for support. 

In front of the great portals of the Castle all the 
attendants and servants had assembled, and as the car- 
riage halted, Marguerite and Balthasar Stiller appeared. 


190 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


If Hardenegg could have found any excuse for banishing 
his father-in-law, he would surely have taken advan- 
tage of it, but as none offered, he thought it would 
perhaps be better after all, to have this meeting over in 
the first hour, as it was one of the inevitables anyway. 
And nothing escaped the former mistress of Buchwald 
in this the first hour of her return. With a slight, proud 
bow she acknowledged the greetings of the servants, 
and when Hardenegg presented Herr Stiller and 
Marguerite to her, in the vestibule, she gave the singular 
looking old mail a surprised, stony stare, and reached 
Marguerite the tips of her fingers, as she turned away 
without speaking a word to either of them. The ser- 
vants, as they withdrew, gave one another significant 
and smiling glances. They understood that this recep- 
tion of the old historical painter was but the beginning 
of the end ; and with that quiet love of wrong doing 
and mischief, which is the natural belonging of little 
souls, they waited impatiently for the revolution to 
come. 

“ Where are you going to put me ?” she asked of her 
son, with hypocritical shyness. “ If you have chosen 
some quiet corner for me, it will be all the better. I am 
only a sick old woman, and it would perhaps have been 
kinder to spare me some of these exciting spectacles.” 

She expressed neither joy nor thankfulness at her 
son’s solicitude for her comfort in the arrangement and 
adornment of her rooms. She took it all as a matter of 
course, or else she seemed perfectly indifferent to what 
had been done for her ; only a very keen observer could 
have noticed the triumphant expression which crossed 
her countenance as she cast a lightning glance around 
her apartments. Before the Baron left her, he informed 
her that he had invited a few persons in the neighbor- 
hood to dine with the newly returned mistress — he laid 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


191 


particular stress upon the last word. The dowager 
acknowledged her son’s communication with a tired 
bow. 

“ I submit myself to all your arrangements,” she said. 
“ You and your wife are the ones to give orders 
here.” 

The company which assembled at dinner an hour 
later in the great dining-salon was numerous enough ; 
but a glance was sufficient to tell that they did not 
belong to that aristocratic circle into which their host 
had been born. Some of the noble names in the vicinity 
were represented, but the best families had held them- 
selves aloof since Hardenegg’s mesalliance, and the 
burger element exceeded by far those of noble birth. 
Most of them were unknown to the old Baroness, and 
she took her place with a manner which showed that 
her son’s social deterioration had not escaped her. 
Among those who were honored by an introduction to 
her was John Werner, the pastor of Frauensee. His 
calm, quiet face and the impressive manliness and dig- 
nity of his whole appearance made some slight impres- 
sion upon the haughty woman, and something like a 
gleam of friendliness shone in her face. 

“You are the successor of our poor Valentine, of 
whose death I read in the papers, are you not ?” she 
asked. “Your predecessor had won for himself a warm 
place in my esteem. He was a true, devoted friend to 
our house.” 

Perhaps she expected that Werner would assure her 
of his own devotion to her noble house, and her eye- 
brows contracted a little when he simply answered 
that he, too, had considered Pastor Valentine a man 
worthy of all respect and of pure and blameless char- 
acter. 

“His office was none too easy,” continued Frau von 


192 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


Hardenegg, “ and I presume you have the same sad 
experiences that frequently fell to his lot. The people 
of Frauensee, and the region round about, are, in the 
main, a rough and wild rabble.” 

The clear, gray eyes of the young clergyman expressed 
both disapproval and astonishment as he looked at the 
arrogant speaker. 

“I have never observed anything of the kind, Frau 
von Hardenegg,” he said, quietly ; “so long as one does 
not forget that all men have their faults, one will not 
discover anything worse here than in any other corner 
of the world. And I cannot believe that my predecessor 
passed so hard a sentence upon his little flock. The sad 
truth must have come to him, that poverty and distress 
are fruitful springs of weakness, both in body and soul, 
and he must assuredly have been more inclined to pity 
and condone the errors and hopeless misery of these 
poor people than to condemn them.” 

While he was speaking so earnestly his listener’s face 
had assumed its hardest and coldest expression. 

“ I thank you, Herr Pastor, for your friendly if alto- 
gether unsolicited information,” she responded. “ It is 
evident that you are so filled with Christian toleration, 
that you regard all the knaves and drunkards of your 
community with delight, and are filled with joy on their 
account. The worthy Herr Valentine did not look at it 
so lightly.” 

Without giving him an opportunity for explanation or 
defence, she turned her back upon him. John Werner 
sat quietly in his allotted place ; but the smile which 
played about his lips told that he had not been annoyed 
or excited by her arrogant and insulting words. 

Stiffly and uncomfortably the meal went on. It 
seemed as if every one who came in contact with the 
host’s mother were chilled and paralized by an icy 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


193 


breath which repressed all freedom or mirth. The 
toast which was given by an old and profligate noble, 
who had once been a gentleman of the bed-chamber at 
court, to the return of the “ long-absent mistress of the 
castle,” was drunk with as little enthusiasm as bare 
civility demanded, and when the last course had been 
served the company arose with an evident feeling of 
relief. 

They dispersed in careless groups upon the balcony 
and in the adjacent apartments to take their coffee. 
John Werner had directed his steps to a quiet corner in 
order to have a talk with Herr Stiller, and the two had 
been chatting for some time when Elfriede approached 
them. The Pastor went a step forward to meet her, 
and the hostess, who had been detained until now at her 
husband’s side, shook hands cordially with him. 
Though she bravely concealed from the world all traces 
of the tortures through which she had that day passed, 
the penetrating eye of her friend could read in her face 
something of what she had endured. She did not 
attempt to force any deceptive smile to her lips, for 
she felt that for the moment, at least, she was free 
from espionage. 

“ I feel almost inclined to be dissatisfied with you,” 
she said, in a low tone. “Did you not know that your 
out-spoken speech to Frau von Hardenegg would make 
her your enemy forever ?” 

“ I could not, for conscience sake, avoid defending 
those, upon whom so heartless and unjust a sentence 
had been passed. It was necessary to express my earn- 
est disapproval of such words coming from the mouth 
of a woman who is not guiltless of blame concerning 
both the bodily and spiritual sorrow so rife in this region. 
I have heard from many reliable sources that the late 
Baron, who spent with a free hand and kept open house 


194 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


for his associates, was never moved by any tale of dis- 
tress, and did absolutely nothing to alleviate the suffer- 
ings of the poor, neighboring peasants ; in fact, he 
directed his overseers and agents to be both hard and 
cruel to his tenantry, and showed no clemency, no matter 
how harrowing their tale. His memory is not revered, 
and near and far his wife is held in as little esteem as 
was he.” 

“ Of course you spoke from your knowledge and 
according to your convictions, and yet, notwithstanding 
all, I wish from the depths of my soul, that conversation 
had never taken place. Ultimately, I will have to suffer 
for it all.” 

“ You, Elfriede, who were not concerned in it at all ! 
And why you ?” 

“ Because any intercourse with you will be looked upon 
with new distrust, or indeed with open hostility. Because 
the last joy and the last comfort which has sustained me 
may betaken from me. My husband has forbidden any 
intercourse with you from the first, but he has, so far, 
borne with patience my infringement of his commands. 
Now he will undoubtedly do whatever his mother wishes 
or thinks fitting. And a voice in my heart tells me that 
there will be no toleration of our old friendship, nor of 
my charitable work in the parish.” 

Werner looked down thoughtfully as she ceased speak- 
ing. The possibility of such a consequence seemed to 
trouble and alarm him. But he had himself in better 
training, with much stronger self-command, than the 
poor little wife before him. 

“ If all should happen as you prognosticate, Elfriede,” 
he said, after a short pause, “ we must submit, and I 
know that in obeying the commands of duty there are 
far greater sacrifices made than this.” 

“ Everything seems so easy for you, John, as if the 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


195 


bare memory of the blessed words ‘ Thou must * reached 
to the innermost recesses, and made the intolerable 
bearable. On my wedding day I gave you the right 
to scold me for being weak and of little courage ; 
but since that day I have truly never bemoaned my 
fate to you. You have heard neither sighs nor com- 
plaints from my lips, and no matter how hard it has at 
times seemed, I have always comforted myself with the 
consciousness that I have fulfilled every duty. But I 
will not boast of a strength which I do not possess. I 
need some staff to support me, some consolation and 
encouragement. And this consolation, as you well 
know, was our united, humane work. If this is taken 
from me, I have no longer any surety for myself. It 
may seem wicked and unchristian for me to be so de- 
spairing ; but it is certainly not Christian to lay upon the 
weak more burdens than they can bear.” 

In this outpouring of her over-burdened heart she had 
forgotten the circumspection which she had observed at 
the beginning of her conversation with her old friend. 
Her manner had become excited and her voice had 
grown louder, and she shrank with evident affright when, 
just as she ceased speaking, a cold, haughty voice close 
beside her said : 

“ Believe me, my dear Herr Chamberlain, as soon as 
a single stone of the foundation of an old house is 
removed, all is irretrievably lost, and a glorious race, 
which for hundreds of years has striven for glory and 
shone in honor passes away forever.” 

Frau von Hardenegg, leaning on the arm of the old 
nobleman, passed in front of her daughter-in-law as she 
finished speaking. Whether or not she had heard any 
part of the conversation between her son’s wife and the 
village pastor, one could not discover from her behavior. 
She did not turn her head toward them, nor bestow upon 


196 


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them a single glance. As Elfriede looked after her, an 
angry light came into her beautiful eyes for the first 
time. 

“Did you hear that?” she said, bitterly. “These 
words of wisdom were uttered for my benefit rather than 
to convince the Chamberlain, and I am confident it was 
done to disturb us.” 

“You should be careful to avoid anything that would 
lead to a collision between you. I think it probable 
that your mother-in-law feels, on this the first day after 
her return, a certain motherly jealously ; but that will 
soon disappear when she learns to value you at your 
own worth.” 

“ Oh, never-never ! She has not come for peace and 
reconciliation ; she has only come to make me altogether 
unhappy.” 

“ Elfriede !” he said, reprovingly, but she had been too 
deeply wounded that day to heed him. 

“ Have not you yourself received a proof of her temper 
and her injustice?” she continued. “ Shall she not be 
more inimical towards me, whom she considers her 
declared enemy, than towards a poor man against whom 
she can have absolutely nothing? No, I know what I 
have to expect from her, and also what she will demand of 
me ; I shall be expected to bow in the dust before her 
like a slave and to sue for mercy as though I were a 
criminal, and — but why bother you, you have never in 
truth been my friend.” 

Since the wedding night, when she had stood before 
him in her bridal gown, Werner had never seen her in 
such a condition of painful excitement and despair. 
And the convulsive motion of his hand as he laid it for 
a second on hers, gave witness to the fact that his heart 
was not as quiet and peaceful as was his countenance. 

“ I shall be your friend, Elfriede, while I have breath 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


197 


to breathe,” he said. “ You cannot doubt that, and I 
cannot better prove my friendship than by admonishing 
you to cultivate resignation and patience. Only one 
can sustain and stand by you in this crisis, and that is 
your husband. Upon his heart you must lean, to his 
love you must turn, and it is impossible that he should 
deny you any prayer or petition which you utter.” 

“ And what if he does. If I stretch out my hands in 
hopeless despair and no one in the world extends a 
supporting arm to me, what shall I do if I cannot count 
upon you to help me ?” 

And as she looked at him with the anxious eyes of a 
beseeching child, she discovered in the depths of those 
deep, gray eyes a flash of fire which she had never seen 
in them before. He leaned over towards her as he 
answered, and it seemed as if his whole soul was in the 
few words which he spoke. 

“ If such an hour should ever come, Elfriede, I would 
sacrifice my life to protect you. But God is all-power- 
ful, and no necessity may ever arise !” 

They spoke no more together on that day, and Werner 
departed, long before the rest of the guests saw fit to 
make their adieus. What more was there to be said 
between these two, after the earnest, significant words 
which had just been spoken ! 


Later, Kurt von Hardenegg accompanied his mother 
with courtly politeness to her apartments. This time 
she did not dismiss him so hastily as she had done earlier 
in the day. Her voice had assumed a more friendly and 
milder tone, and in a seeming outburst of motherly love 
she took his head between her hands and kissed him 


198 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


tenderly. “ My poor son !” she said, sorrowfully ; “ my 
poor, dear son !” 

The Baron had rather an embarrassed face ; such an 
outward exhibition of affection from his mother was so 
unusual, that considering the present existing condition 
of affairs he did not feel quite comfortable. 

“Why do you lament over me, Mother ?” he asked. 
“ Do you not find all going on about as usual here ?” 

“ I find everything worse, much worse, than my most 
alarming apprehensions had pictured. What has come 
upon us, Kurt, that we are obliged to seek the company 
of such people ?” 

“You are a little hard on me, Mother! One has to 
pay his neighbors some little attentions, and they were 
really all honorable people whom I honored by inviting 
to dine with you.” 

“ Certainly ! Herr Muller and Herr Schulze are most 
respectable farmers. But where were the Bernsdorff 
and Hohenfeld families, the Falkenstiens and Sutzorns, 
those life-long friends of your father’s. Where was 
Count Bassewitz, who, by the purchase of Lankenau, 
has become your nearest neighbor ?” 

The Baron pulled his moustaches. He recognized 
that his mother had an object in discussing this matter 
of his estrangement from old friends, and he knew there 
was no possibility of avoiding the painful subject. 

“ Of course, we both understand that my relations 
with these families have undergone a certain change, 
but I cannot say that I think I have lost much.” 

Frau von Hardenegg was about to make him a hasty 
answer, but on second thought controlled her natural 
impulse. 

“You are the master of the house, and will choose 
your guests to suit your pleasure,” she answered, in a 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


199 


faint voice. “ For the few days which remain to me on 
earth, it can make little difference who comes or goes.” 

“Why do you speak of dying, Mother? I trust you 
will live many, many years and have a happy existence 
with us here.” 

“A happy existence? You are not in earnest? Even 
if I were in perfect health how could I be happy, when 
you, my only son, are so miserable !” 

“ I, Mother ? I have, so far as I know, made no such 
acknowledgment to you.” 

“ In mere words — no. You had not confidence enough 
in me to do that ! But a mother’s eyes are sharp and 
need no outspoken avowals. Look me straight in the 
eye, Kurt, and then assure me on your honor that this 
marriage has made you happy.” 

“ Can one be altogether happy on this earth, Mother ? 
Human hopes are seldom entirely fulfilled.” 

“Such words of resignation from your lips are new to 
my ears, and I do not scruple to say that from a man in 
the pride of his strength and youth they are very sig- 
nificant. But all this pains me more than it surprises 
me. I knew from the beginning that from this romantic 
love-dream there would come a stern awakening. But 
I little imagined that on the very first day of my return, 
I should have to deplore my resolution to come back 
again.” 

She put her handkerchief to her eyes, and the 
Baron’s manner showed a growing uneasiness. 

“What bitter words, Mother ! I believe that I did 
all that I could to obliterate from your mind any vexing 
impressions.” 

“All that was possible — that’s true enough! But 
there are some things over which you have no cbntrol, 
my poor son. It is easy enough to induce a poor girl, 
attracted by the glitter of your wealth and position to 


200 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


become your wife, but it is an impossibility for you at 
the same time to win her love. You can make her the 
mistress of your father’s house, but you cannot force 
her to yield to that spirit of conjugal obedience and 
wifely decorum which has ever been a distinguished 
characteristic of the women of Buchwald.” 

The Baron’s brow contracted sternly. 

“Mamma, I understand that you cannot love Elfriede, 
and I have no thought of demanding from you such a 
self-sacrifice. The accusations which you have made 
against my wife in this the first hour of your meeting, 
before you have learned to know her, prove to me that 
you have a blind hatred for her which troubles me 
greatly.” 

“Ah, that is what I expected. You believe that I am 
deceiving you — that I complain of my beautiful daughter- 
in-law because of my deep aversion for her. Had I not 
felt assured that you also had misgivings as to how 
matters stood in this house, I should have felt 
constrained to remain silent.” 

“ What do you mean ? Have you reliable grounds for 
thinking that my wife refuses me obedience, or that any 
blemish has been cast upon her wifely dignity ? If such 
is the case then it is your duty to speak, and if you have 
anything to tell, tell it, but I pray you not to confine 
yourself to vague insinuations.” 

“ No, no. I will not be the one to sow discord 
between you. Is your love so intense still that it blinds 
you to the most notorious things ? If so, do not seek to 
discover the truth. Let us say no more on this subject.” 

But Hardenegg’s curiosity, and his suspicions as well, 
had been aroused, and he insisted on having a full 
explanation of his mother’s vague hints. At last the 
Baroness said, with a deep sigh : “ I have observed your 
wife as far as I have had the opportunity to-day ; not 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


201 


because I had any wish to spy with malicious intent, 
but because I wanted to learn for myself whether you 
were happy in the choice you had made. With deep 
pain, which finally arose to righteous indignation, I dis- 
covered that she did not think it necessary, even on my 
account, to manifest even a semblance of affection for 
you. Her own imprudence — I could use a sharper word 
if she were not your wife, and bore my own name — was 
sufficient proof that I was not in error. The new pastor 
has evidently exerted himself greatly to win her heart.” 

The Baron sprang up ; the veins in his forehead were 
swollen, and he bit the ends of his moustache savagely. 

‘ The pastor of Frauensee? Do you know of any 
intercourse between him and Elfriede ?” 

“Yes. During dinner I noticed the direction which 
the languishing eyes of your wife took every now and 
then, and found they were met by longing looks from 
that sallow faced, pious and somewhat democratic 
divine. No sixteen-year-old boarding-school girl could 
have mistaken the object of his adoration and devotion, 
and I do not doubt that others besides myself perceived 
this silent conversation of the eyes.” 

“You must be mistaken, Mother. You must have 
deceived yourself. My God, that would be too out- 
rageous !” 

“ I have not finished yet. After dinner, as I was tak- 
ing a little promenade on the Lord Chamberlain’s arm, 
we came unexpectedly to a secluded corner, and surprised 
the Herr Pastor and your wife in a situation which cer- 
tainly needs some explanation, for it was surely no 
accidental conversation. Your wife spoke with a fire 
and a passion which I should never have imagined was 
concealed beneath so placid an exterior, and I felt myself 
reddening when I observed that the Chamberlain had 
overheard a fragment of this conversation.” 


202 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


The Baroness told all this in an unusually soft voice, 
as though almost forced against her will to speak, and 
her son was in no condition to conceal from her his 
angry and increasing excitement. 

He stepped with impetuous tread to the window, as if 
anxious to hide from his mother the color which dyed 
his cheeks. Even she felt a little surprised at the power- 
ful effect of her words. 

“ So far,” she continued, slowly, “ as I could under- 
stand, she was suing for some friendly hand to release 
her from her insupportable situation. Why she made 
such an appeal, I must leave you to divine ! And as we 
passed, the Lord Chamberlain heard the estimable pastor 
call your wife by her first name two or three times.” 

“ Oh, that is outrageous !” interrupted Hardenegg. 
“ And I have been really such a fool as to be imposed 
upon by such seemingly angelic behavior. Yes, Mother, 
I believe all you say, for you certainly could not know 
what I suspected was going on, four years ago. Well ! 
I have been a long time getting my eyes fully opened. 
This Werner was an old and trusted friend of the Stiller 
family when I first met them, and at that time I had my 
suspicions that he was courting Elfriede’s favor. On 
the day of my marriage, I learned for the first time that 
he was the Pastor’s assistant at Frauensee, but Elfriede 
played her part with so much skill, that I thought she 
was utterly indifferent to him. But on that evening — 
the evening of our marriage, Mother — I surprised them 
in earnest conversation, just as you surprised them 
to-night. They had gone out together on the dark 
balcony where they would not be overheard, and when I 
appeared with my guests, they shrank guiltily apart.” 

“ And you took it all calmly ? You did not forbid him 
your house, and command your wife never to speak to 
him again ?” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


203 


“ I could not bring myself to believe that Elfriede 
would ever forget her duty. All that she said and did 
breathed so much innocence and sincerity of heart, that 
it always seemed to me that I need have no slightest 
doubt of her purity. Her feeling for Werner only 
seemed one of ordinary friendliness. And I had no 
disposition to debase and humiliate myself in her eyes, 
by displaying any foolish jealousy.” 

“ Your delicacy of feeling toward this woman was more, 
my dear Kurt, than she deserved at your hands. For 
she evidently values neither you nor your honorable 
name. I am afraid you will meet with more humiliations 
in your life’s journey with her, than you now deem possi- 
ble.” 

Hardenegg stamped his feet impetuously on the car- 
pet, and the rush of blood to his head almost blinded 
him. 

“ If I thought it was possible that there was in her 
heart an emotion which belonged to another man — by 
the eternal God, I would strangle her !” 

Frau von Hardenegg did not take her eyes from his 
face fora moment. She had, from the beginning of this 
interview, kept one decided, clearly marked object in view, 
and with her keen insight into human nature, knew just 
the moment when the axe should be laid at the root. 

“ That would be as dramatic as it would be foolish,” 
she said, with the slightest sneer in her voice. “ I think, 
in this case, you can do much better than that.” 

The glances of mother and son met. Perhaps the 
remnant of better nature within him made him doubt 
his mother’s insinuations and suggestions, but his blood 
was hot within him, and the low, admonitory voice of 
reason could obtain no mastery over him. 

“ And what do you suggest ? What must I do to win 
your approbation ?” 


204 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ My approbation is of little matter here, Kurt, it is of 
your own happiness you should think. And as you 
never can expect to find happiness by the side of a heart- 
less, egotistical creature, you surely owe it to yourself to 
separate from her on that day when you have proof of 
her unworthiness. ” 

“ You mean for me to get a divorce, Mother ?” 

“ As a dernier resort , if nothing else can be done. The 
scandal of a dissolution of this ill-judged marriage will 
be much less, I can assure you, than that which will 
result from a continuance of her present conduct.” 

Some thought of an honorable, peaceful future entered 
Hardenegg’s soul. All that he had suffered during the 
past four years, the many painful and humiliating conse- 
quences of his fatal mesalliance forced themselves all at 
once before his soul. The picture of again winning an 
unbounded freedom had never before appeared to him 
so enticing. He breathed heavily and leaned with arms 
folded over his breast, against the window. 

“ Before one resorts to extreme measures he must 
have unquestionable proof of what he asserts,” said he, 
hesitatingly, as though he felt ashamed to give his 
thoughts words. “ Even what you have seen and heard 
could be explained away, as innocent and miscon- 
strued.” 

Frau von Hardenegg kept herself well in hand ; she 
felt she had gained much in this last hour. 

“Certainly !” she responded. “And be assured, I do 
not want to force you into taking so severe a measure. 
I only wish you to keep your eyes open and to permit me 
to watch with you over the honor of our name.” 

The Baron kissed his Mother’s hand. 

“ I know that all that you do, you do for my good, 
Mother. It would perhaps have been better for us all if 
I had been more obedient to your wishes.” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


205 


He apologized for the necessity of leaving her for the 
next few days ; she gave him a smiling rebuke for 
deserting her so soon, and he bade her good-night and 
left her room with the earnest, brooding manner of a 
man to whom a new thought had suddenly come, and 
who had at last succeeded after much trouble in seeing a 
light in the future beyond the far-stretching chaos of 
the present. 

Frau von Hardenegg, who had maintained a gentle 
demeanor anything but natural to one of her haughty 
and egotistical temperament, rose hastily, as soon as 
her son had departed, and rang her bell violently for 
her maid. The woman appeared promptly ; she was a 
pale, weak-looking creature with uneasy’ piercing eyes. 
She had been in the service of the Baroness long before 
the old Baron’s death, and had accompanied her mistress 
on her travels during the last four years. She had won a 
high place in her mistress’ esteem, but was thoroughly 
hated by her associates in the servants’ hall. 

“I feel utterly exhausted,” said the Baroness, “ and 
wish to retire immediately, but before I sleep I want to 
give you some particular directions.” 

And these directions must indeed have been of 
especial importance, for it was two hours later when the 
maid was dismissed from her mistress’ sleeping-room. 


206 


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CHAPTER XIV. 

The operatic and musical season was so long past in 
the capital, that an isolated musical event of importance 
was sure to attract universal attention. When it was 
announced that a great concert was to be given by the 
Count Ladislaus Hardenstein at his gorgeous palace, 
every one who was anybody was very anxious to obtain 
tickets. The object of this concert was to raise money 
for some charitable institution in the city, and the price 
of admission was very high ; but the aristocratic charac- 
ter of the whole entertainment spurred many on to 
make unusual exertions to get cards of admission. 
There were but few celebrated artists named in the 
programme, and these were assisted, for the most part, 
by amateurs who belonged to the oldest and noblest 
families in the country. 

So one can readily understand that this charitable 
entertainment bore much more the character of a pri- 
vate musicale than of a public concert. The men and 
women who composed the audience appeared in rich 
toilettes, and Count Hardenstein, convinced that no 
unseemly element would dare cross his threshold, was 
as attentive and courteous as it was in his power to be. 
The great concert hall, and the adjoining apartments, 
were brilliantly illuminated. Richly liveried servants 
served the ladies with choice refreshments, and in one 
of the largest rooms a buffet had been placed which was 
loaded with rare wines and delicacies. 

Every one was on the qui vive for the great event of 
the evening. A young violinist, who for the past two 
winters had attracted great attention, both in Paris and 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


207 


London, by his musical skill, had just arrived in the 
city and had amiably signified his willingness to accept 
the Count’s invitation and play at his concert. It would 
be his first appearance in Germany, and after the repu- 
tation which had preceded him, it was not surprising 
that the name of Stillfried Ewald was more frequently 
whispered among the guests, than that of any other 
performer of the evening. 

Punctually at the appointed hour the guests assembled 
in the great salon. They greeted one another cordially 
and with hearty good-will, for they were nearly all 
acquaintances, who met to-night at the Hardenstein 
palace, to open their purses for the benefit of the city’s 
afflicted poor. The room was crowded to its utmost, 
and the distinguished audience presented a wonderfully 
attractive and fascinating scene. 

“ Look at that man ! He reminds one of Ahasver, the 
wandering Jew !” whispered the young Prince of Croy 
to his neighbor, and this comment was whispered 
through the entire room. Indeed the remark seemed 
appropriate enough, for the man who had just entered, 
with his powerful, bony frame, large^ head, deep set 
glowing eyes and sharply cut profile, and his long snow- 
white beard entirely covering his breast, looked like a 
being from another world, and was in sharp contrast to 
the fresh, every-day tone of the people around him. 
Even his odd, old-fashioned attire seemed to bear 
traditional testimony to the suggestion just hazarded. 

As he stood leaning on his crutch, he cast, before he 
seated himself, an eagle glance over the gay throng, 
glittering with uniforms and costly bejeweled toilettes, 
and one could read in his face how little he was 
impressed by all this shimmer and sheen of wealth. 

The astonishment increased as Count Hardenstein 
approached him, and greeting him with every mark of 


208 


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attention and courtesy, exchanged a few cordial words 
with him. From all sides inquiries were now made 
regarding the interesting unknown, which the host 
answered willingly as far as he himself knew. 

“ It is he whom we have to thank for the presence this 
evening of the brilliant, rising star, Stillfried Ewald. 
There is evidently a close bond of relationship between 
the two. The old man is, if I am not mistaken, a Rus- 
sian. At least, his name is Kostomarow, and that has, 
unquestionably, a Russian sound. It seems it was he 
who discovered Ewald’s extraordinary talent, and super- 
intended his musical education, under the most cele- 
brated masters in Paris. And the young man’s 
gratitude and reverence for his senior is beyond anything 
I have ever before observed. He does nothing against 
the will or without the expressed approval of his bene- 
factor, and, in fact, seems to have no other interest or 
desire.” 

All this gossip was listened to with much interest, and 
the desire to see the young musician was greatly 
increased, after hearing so much concerning both his 
patron and himself. The aristocratic amateurs who 
opened the concert had much to suffer, owing to the 
scarcely suppressed excitement and impatience of their 
listeners. They were applauded as heartily as politeness 
demanded, but not with the warmth which would have 
been displayed had there been no greater attraction to 
follow. 

At last the eagerly anticipated announcement was 
made, and the lorgnettes and opera glasses were hastily 
leveled at the tall, slender youth who stepped upon the 
stage from a small music-room on the left. He had a 
finely cut, noble looking face, a tall, well formed figure, 
dark curling hair and large, speaking eyes, now soft and 





















♦ 








THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


209 


sad in their expression, now glowing with energy and 
fire. 

His appearance had won him a partial victory, even 
before he raised his bow, and the feminine part of the 
audience was already in ecstacies over his aristocratic 
and n. >dest demeanor. As he raised his violin, he gave 
a long, earnest look at Kostomarow ; the old man 
answered it with an encouraging nod which brought a 
smile to the youth’s lips. Then he began to play, and 
all which had been said in his praise seemed weak and 
insufficient to mark his power of accentuation, and the 
masterly manner in which he handled his bow. The 
first, soft tones of the clear, sweet instrument reached all 
hearts, and all realized that this violin, in spite of its 
simple exterior, was a treasure from which the virtuoso 
could draw rich, soul-stirring strains. 

With devout attention the hearers listened to the 
resonant and rfcellow tones which Ewald drew forth with 
his bow, and when he had ended, the storm of applause 
which burst forth from all parts of the room was almost 
overwhelming. As Ewald bowed modestly in acknowl- 
edgment of their approval, a close observer might have 
noticed that when he caught sight of his old friend 
applauding vociferously, and clapping his wrinkled, bony 
hands, a beam of almost childish glee crossed his face. 
When he saw that the applause would not cease until he 
again took up his bow, he played a second piece, a 
phantasia which gave him a better opportunity to dis- 
play his great powers than had his first execution. It 
was indeed a poem in music revealing his wonderful 
technique, and the deep, inexpressible feeling of a great 
soul devoted to his art. Very little notice was paid to 
the remaining numbers on the programme, after Ewald’s 
departure from the stage, and when, later on, the guests 
wandered through the rooms, or tarried at the buffet 


210 


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salon, no other subject was discussed than the talent and 
great future career of this prince of violinists. 

After a short time the young virtuoso himself appeared 
amid the company, by the side of his singular looking, 
lame protector, and Count Hardenstein had enough to 
do for the next hour, in acceding to requests for an intro- 
duction to the wonderful Herr Ewald whom every one 
considered it an honor to be permitted to grasp by the 
hand. The young artist showed, in this distinguished 
and flattering circle, neither foolish pride nor humble 
submissiveness. The naive joy which he felt over his 
success shone in his eye, but he conducted himself with 
such frank modesty and manly courage that no one could 
have denied him both sympathy and admiration. But 
after a time all this bustle and noise began to make him 
weary and uncomfortable, and he took the first oppor- 
tunity which offered to ask Kostomarow in a whisper if 
it were not time to depart. 

But the old man shook his head decidedly. 

“ You must have a little patience, my son. I am 
waiting for some one who will surely come, and who I 
don’t want to miss.” 

Ewald Stiller had never learned to contradict his pro- 
tector, so he said nothing more, but sought for himself 
a moment of quiet in a secluded corner, where he looked 
out with an almost sad attention upon the glittering and 
kaleidiscopic picture. 

A gentle pressure on his arm made him look around 
hastily, and involuntarily a cry of surprise came from his 
lips, as he saw a lovely, richly clad girl standing beside 
him. 

“ Is your memory then so poor, that you can’t even 
recognize the girl who saved your life ?” she asked, in a 
sweet voice and with a playful glance. “Must I be 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 2ll 

the one to demand the payment of your debt of grati- 
tude ?” 

Ewald looked at the speaker as if she were a vision 
from another world. The color came and went in his 
cheeks, and a sunny smile overspread her face at his 
speechless astonishment. 

“ Fraulein Hertha — Countess Hertha — is it really you? 
And have you not forgotten me?” 

“ Do you think that my memory is as fleeting as 
yours ?” she answered, giving him a bright look. “ I 
have felt as proud as a queen for the last hour on your 
account. You must not deny me my share in this 
night’s triumph. Of how much pleasure all these people 
would have been deprived if a young, mischievous girl 
had not, four years ago, possessed enough skill and dar- 
ing to handle a fowling-piece.” 

Her frolicsome manner was perhaps assumed to hide 
a feeling of another kind, for as she spoke the last 
words there was a tremble in her voice. Ewald was 
not in any condition to conceal the deep emotion which 
overpowered him, beneath a smiling face. He bent 
over the small hand which had just been laid so caress- 
ingly upon his arm, and kissed it. 

“Ah, you are mocking me, Countess Hertha,” he said, 
softly and earnestly. “ But you must believe me that 
since that day, no hour has passed in which I have not 
held you in grateful and reverent remembrance.” 

Slowly and without unkindness she withdrew her 
hand from his grasp. 

“ Why do you say that I mock you,” she asked, 
seriously now. “You deserved a little lecture for over- 
looking me so coolly, but I have not followed you to 
your little corner of retreat in order to remind you of 
our adventure of four years ago — I have come to thank 
you for to-night’s rare treat, and to say that you have 


212 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


more than fulfilled what both you and I have hoped for 
you.” 

“ But I am far distant yet from the goal of my hopes !” 
he responded, modestly. “ Your appreciation makes me 
both proud and happy, and I accept it gladly ; for I 
should never have made even my present progress 
towards the object of my ambition had I not on that 
never to be forgotten day gained the victory over 
what was to me, the severest heart-struggle of my 
life.” 

The words came fervently and all too impetuously 
from his lips, and the Countess could not but be assured 
that his allusion was to herself. Her charming face 
colored a little more deeply and for a moment she was 
embarrassed. But life in the great world had taught 
her to quickly master all such confusion, and after a few 
seconds she began chatting as if she had not heard his 
last significant words : “ I must make a reservation in 
my praise, for it is certain that the accident which 
brought me here to-night was due to no merit of yours. 
And you promised me once, that you would seek me out 
of your own accord.” 

“ God knows I was determined to do it !” 

“ Really ?” 

She raised her clear eyes questioningly to his own. 

“ I wonder if that is any more than a pretty speech, 
which you, who consider the past of so little moment, 
offer to me. You would be in a quandary, would you 
not, if I took you at your word ?” 

“You are joking, Countess, for if you do not 
believe — ” 

Hertha did not let him finish. 

“ No, no, I will annoy you no longer with the old, for- 
gotten episode, or you will think that I am the same 
foolish child I was years ago. I have no desire that 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


213 


you should enact the lonely troubadour, scattering 
seeds of melody through the land, as you journey 
in search of my lonely castle. But I should indeed 
rejoice to welcome you at my father’s home at 
Lankenau, where we go in a few days for the sum- 
mer.” 

Her open and frank manner had none of that reserve 
which was so common in persons of her rank towards 
those of humbler station, and Ewald for the moment for- 
got that their intercourse to-night was under other cir- 
cumstances than the day of their first, romantic meeting 
under the free heavens, where there were neither walls 
nor social restrictions to hedge them in. 

But he was no longer the awkward, inexperienced lad, 
who was just taking his first steps upon the battle field 
of life. He had learned, and learned well, these mys- 
terious class differences, and of how much significance 
they were to the human race. So he permitted himself 
to indulge in no foolish, longing hopes merely because a 
friendly word had been spoken. 

Was there not in the bearing of this lovely young 
Countess, despite her frankness and cordiality, some- 
thing of a proud surperiority, which forbade any familiar 
advance beyond certain insurmountable barriers ? 

“ You are very gracious, Countess,” he said, with a 
polite bow, “ but I fear that noble castles do not stand 
open for the reception of simple musicians.” 

“ Ah, how proud you have become !” she answered, 
mimicing archly his measured tones. “ But are you 
really a good judge ? For in ‘ noble castles,’ as I know, 
their owners practice hospitality as a noble duty. I 
would perhaps exaggerate if I called my father an 
enthusiast of art, but certainly he has a warm heart for 
it, and never has one of her disciples come to our door 
without receiving from him an hearty welcome,” 


214 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


Ewald had determined in spite of this charming girl’s 
cordiality, to remain cool and discreet, but his heart 
beat so loudly that he almost feared Hertha could read 
his thoughts in his face. He stammered, awkwardly 
enough, something about intrusion and unheard-of bold- 
ness, and the Countess, perhaps from an impulse of 
sympathy, added : “ My father spoke of you to-night 

after you left the stage, in terms of the highest praise, 
and he was among the first to grasp you by the hand, 
although you perhaps did not hear his name. So I can 
speak confidently, when I assure you that you will have 
no cause for complaint, if you, at any time, accept my 
invitation to become a guest at Lankenau.” 

Ewald, unable longer to conceal his real pleasure under 
a polite exterior, was about to assure her how happy he 
would be to accept her invitation, but Hertha, with a 
motion of her hand, commanded his silence. 

“Promise me nothing! You shall not for a second 
time be bound by any silly pledge. Who knows where 
your glorious way may lead, and how many much more 
important invitations will be given you by to-morrow. 
Whether we ever meet again or not, I wish you to be 
assured that my warmest wishes for your success will 
accompany you in your brilliant career.” 

Her last words had such a stilted, cold sound, that 
Ewald, pained and puzzled, could not immediately find 
words with which to reply and only answered with a 
bow, as she turned carelessly and left him. Longingly 
his eyes followed her graceful figure, as she with the 
confidence which birth and rank alone give, moved 
slowly down the long salon in the midst of the fashion- 
able, glittering throng. 

“ What a fool I am !” he said to himself. “ As if I 
could ever in this strange world, be anything else than 
an unauthorized intruder towards whom a friendly for- 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


215 


bearance is displayed as long as I shorten their weary 
hours for them with my violin.” 

Hertha was met in the middle of the room by a man 
whose face Ewald did not see, and whom therefore he 
did not at once recognize. A keen feeling of jealousy 
took possession of his heart, as he, from his secluded 
corner, witnessed this meeting. He was too far distant 
to see the Countess’ face but he had a feeling that some- 
thing beyond the ordinary conventional greetings of 
society was being exchanged between these two. 

This tall, distinguished looking man had, as he caught 
sight of the Countess, come to a sudden halt, as if sur- 
prise, with a blending of confusion, had, half against his 
will, forced him to stop. Then he had advanced with 
out-stretched hand to greet her, and as she extended hers 
half-hesitatingly, he had seized and kissed it with great 
warmth. Then he began the conversation, which, to 
Ewald’s suspicious eye, had seemed much warmer and 
more eager than the every-day meetings of fashionable 
persons demanded. And it was very evident that the 
Hertha who responded to all this was quite another per- 
son from her who had held speech with the young musi- 
cian. Her former naivete had entirely disappeared. 
With bent head and face partially hidden by her fan she 
listened to her companion. Then he offered her his arm 
for a promenade of the rooms. As they turned, Ewald 
for the first time saw the man’s face, and a cry of angry 
surprise broke from his lips, for this favored person was 
no other than Kurt von Hardenegg, his sister Elfriede’s 
husband. 

Truly, Ewald had never loved this brother-in-law. A 
certain instinctive knowledge of human nature told him 
that behind this amiable, attractive looking mask there 
lay a reckless selfishness, and the marriage of his sister, 
whose pure heart and truth he well knew, to this unre- 


216 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


liable egotist, gave the first deep pain and sorrow to 
his young life. 

Day after day in this long, hard separation of 
years had his thoughts turned to his father and sisters, 
regarding whom he had never heard a word, and he 
had asked Kostomarow repeatedly if the time had not 
yet come when he could acquaint his father with his 
whereabouts and beg humbly for his forgiveness. 

But the answers which he received had always been the 
same : “ Beg him for forgiveness when you can prove 

to him by deeds that you have earned it, or when you 
fear that he is on his death-bed. But there is no neces- 
sity for distressing yourself about that at present, for I 
have heard from a reliable source that he is in good 
health. Work and study ! That’s all you have to do 
now and everything else will be all right !” 

And Ewald had waited patiently, even after his suc- 
cesses in Paris and London, until his patron thought it 
advisable to return to Germany. If the young artist 
had followed the inclinations of his heart, he would 
have hastened at once to his father, and thrown himself 
upon his breast. But to his astonishment and sorrow 
as well, he found that his benefactor had decided other- 
wise. When he expressed a wish to go immediately to 
his father, Kostomarow instead of replying as formerly 
with a stern command, gave an answer which more 
closely resembled a request. 

“ By such haste you would perhaps destroy a plan, 
whose success I look to as the final achievement of my 
life, and which, under certain circumstances, will prove 
not only of significance to yourself but to all your 
family. I do not seek to turn your thoughts from your 
parent and sisters, but trust you will be willing to make 
this sacrifice for me, for you will have but a short time 
to wait.” 


THE BKEACH OF CUSTOM. 


217 


Of course to Ewald such a request was law, and dur- 
ing their stay of several weeks in the capital, he made 
no further mention of the longing which possessed his 
whole soul. He asked no questions about this secret 
plan, although the old man’s eccentric behavior would 
have made such an inquiry excusable. Never before had 
Kostomarow left him so much alone. An inexhausti- 
ble amount of important business seemed to occupy him. 
Frequently Ewald only saw him for an hour in the day, 
and once he had gone out of town for nearly a week, 
Ewald was not invited to accompany him and no men- 
tion was made of where he had been. His protegee 
noticed that he was in a state of intense nervous excite- 
ment since his return from the little trip ; but his whole 
conduct at this time was a mystery to the youth. 

But to-night he felt a sensation of real anger at Kos- 
tomarow’s secretiveness. In what a painful position was 
he placed by the appearance of Hardenegg. Following 
his firsc impulse he took several hasty steps to follow 
the disappearing pair into the smaller salon, and face 
his brother-in-law and — if he must — say a fearless word 
in regard to his unseemly conduct. But a second’s 
calm reflection deterred him from pursuing this course. 
With what reason could he approach this elegant cav- 
alier — he, who had entered this house under an assumed 
name and who, doubtless, in the eyes of his haughty 
brother-in-law was but a runaway boy in need of 
fatherly correction. 

Then he felt the danger of exposing himself to a 
humiliation in the eyes of the Countess Hertha. 

Hastily he sought for Kostomarow in order to get from 
him advice. But the old man seemed to have disappeared 
suddenly from the company, and after looking through 
the dining-salon without finding his old guardian, 
Ewald decided not to return to his former retreat, fear- 


218 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


ing he might meet Hardenegg if he did so. He stole 
unperceived from the brilliantly lighted rooms and 
threw himself into a coupe which had just driven up to 
the palace ; his heart was filled with a bitterness and 
pain which his evening’s success could not dissipate. 

And where was Kostomarow all this time ? For he 
seemed to have entirely forgotten his adopted son. 
Several of the guests who had listened attentively to 
the little which their host could tell regarding him, had 
approached him with no small degree of curiosity and 
had entered into conversation with him. But they 
quickly found that the white bearded “ Ahasver ” could 
not be accounted among communicative or particularly 
amiable people. They were dispatched summarily and 
gruffly enough, and soon no one had enough curiosity 
to test the doubtful pleasure of a little conversation 
with the eccentric guest. So Kostomarow was left 
alone in one of the smaller rooms, and nothing 
could take his eye from the large folding-doors through 
which all late comers entered. His tireless vigilance 
convinced one that it was no idle curiosity, but a stead- 
fast purpose which made him never waver from his 
watch. At last, when many of the guests had taken 
their departure, the man for whom he had waited so 
patiently crossed the threshold. 

Kostomarow muttered some unintelligible words to 
himself and stroked his white beard. Half hidden by 
the heavy folds of a curtain he stood in a window niche 
and watched with burning eyes every movement of his 
nephew, Baron von Hardenegg, who, in his black ball- 
room attire, had just entered and was greeting some old 
friends. He observed as attentively as had Ewald, his 
meeting with and his impassioned manner towards the 
Countess Hertha, and when they disappeared into 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


219 


another room he did not lose sight of them, but followed 
immediately by another way. 

Hardenegg and his fair companion were joined at once 
by two men, and the conversation which ensued was as 
it seemed, gay and animated. After having their cham- 
pagne glasses filled, they were just about to drink, laugh- 
ing and joking the while, to some one’s health, when the 
old man limped close to the group and stood leaning on 
his crutch. Naturally all eyes were directed toward him, 
and Hardenegg’s surprise was so great that he forgot to 
carry his raised glass to his lips, and even spilled a few 
drops of the sparkling liquid over his trembling hand. 

He acted at once however upon some sudden thought. 
Excusing himself hastily to the Countess and putting his 
untasted glass upon the table, he turned quickly toward 
Kostomarow. 

The old man stood in a window-recess, evidently fully 
prepared for the interview. His wrinkled, haggard face 
changed no whit in expression as the young Baron 
approached. Hardeneggstrove to appear unconcerned, 
and assumed his most amiable tone and manner. 

“ Herr Kostomarow !” he said. “ Is it really you ? I 
should have expected to meet any one else in the world 
rather than you !” 

“ Strange things happen sometimes, Herr von Har- 
denegg ! But it is very good of you to remember me at 
all.” 

“Why should I not? After your communication 
regarding my poor uncle I should naturally hold you in 
grateful remembrance, but when Ewald Stiller disap- 
peared so romantically under your protection, you may 
rest assured we could not forget you. Do you know I 
was very angry with you at that time ?” 

“ You see I made no attempt to prevent your being 
so.” 


220 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ Well, well ! After all, you have not murdered him. 
What has become of the young man ?” 

Kostomarow gave that inward chuckle which had been 
so annoying to the Baron at their first interview. 

“ No, I have not murdered him, although it seems to 
me that you would have been inclined to forgive me 
even if I had done so. But you can render me a ser- 
vice, Herr von Hardenegg.” 

He spoke in a superior, condescending tone, but the 
Baron seemed to-night to have no feeling of resentment 
in consequence. 

“As far as lies within my power — with pleasure,” he 
answered, promptly. “I am already, in a certain sense, 
in your debt.” 

“Very well! I don’t think you’ll find it a difficult 
task. As regards this young man, as you call your wife’s 
brother, he has become a great artist about whom in a 
short time all Europe will talk. What I say can be con- 
firmed by any of the company here to-night, and he is 
called, as you may have noticed in the programme, Still- 
fried Ewald.” 

From the Baron’s face it was evident that this surprise 
was not a pleasant one. 

“ Ah ! Is it possible ?” he said, slowly. “ Then the 
name of Stiller is destined to become very popular?” 

“ It is concerning this that I wish to prefer my request. 
I think it better that ‘ the young man ’ should remain 
unknown for a little longer, and consequently desire no 
one to know that Ewald Stiller and Stillfried Ewald are 
one and the same. And it is on this subject, Herr von 
Hardenegg, that I wish you to preserve silence.” 

“ Nothing else ? Oh, you may trust me to keep your 
secret inviolate. It is no hardship to escape the world’s 
congratulations regarding an artist cdebre in one’s own 
family.” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


221 


‘You will not mention either to your wife or to her 
father one word about Ewald’s appearance ?” 

“ Not a word, on my honor. As you were able to 
make so much out of the boy, he surely does better 
under your protection than under any one’s else. But I 
feel inclined to make a request in return.” 

“ Let us hear it.” 

“It is trifling enough, only to ask you to repeat to me 
the history of my uncle’s death.” 

“ Of his death ? I never remember to have spoken of 
his death.” 

“ Did you not tell me that with your own eyes you saw 
him shot down by a soldier and fall heavily wounded?” 

“Truly. You were attentive, Herr von Hardenegg !” 

“Very well, was not that sufficient proof. And you 
will do me a little favor, will you not ?” 

“ Why not. What I can say with a clear conscience, I 
will repeat before any one.” 

“ If you will allow me I would like to entertain you as 
my guest to-morrow. You are a little interested in 
horse racing, I presume ?” 

“ I will interest myself that far, if you desire.” 

“That’s right! I shall expect you at the Hotel du 
Nord at twelve o’clock. We will drive together to the 
racing grounds, and I’ll promise you some good sport.” 

“ I shall be rejoiced if I can [in any way return your 
kindness.” 

“ Do not trouble yourself on that score, my dear Herr 
Kostomarow. You will positively come ?” 

“Yes, at twelve o’clock.” 

“ Farewell until then. I have a few social duties to 
fulfil ere I depart.” 

With a gracious bow, he turned away and went hur- 
riedly through the rooms in search of the beautiful 
Countess Hertha. 


222 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM:. 


CHAPTER XV. 

It was the great day of the autumn races, and the 
delightful weather had drawn thousands to the race 
course. The grand stand was crowded to overflowing 
and the front seats were bright and gay with the rich 
costumes of the great society dames. In the square 
reserved for the horses there was great animation and 
excitement. The owners of the noble animals either 
stood in little groups or walked aimlessly about, talking 
of the chances of their favorites. The jockeys saun- 
tered about in their spotless hose and gay colored silk 
blouses ; insignificant beardless faces they had for the 
most part, but they strutted proudly to and fro, anxious 
to attract the attention of the occupants of the grand 
stand. 

Earnestly talking, the Baron von Rhoden and Har- 
denegg walked through the square side by side. The 
keen, sharp cut face of the former showed not the 
slightest unusual excitement ; but the great, sickening 
suspense which the other felt, could be read very plainly 
in his face, and he seemed suddenly to have become 
years older. They were, naturally enough, talking of 
the coming race. 

“ I cannot but think, Hartmuth, that you will be mis- 
taken in your prophesies,” said Hardenegg. “ The legs 
of the redoubtable ‘ Klabautermann ’ appear to me to 
be in a very squeamish condition, and Fred Richmond 
has gotten ‘ Eglantine ’ in such fine shape that I feel 
great confidence in the result.” 

“ In which case no one will be more hearty in his con- 
gratulations, than I. But it’s waste of time to talk of 


THE BKEACH OF CUSTOM. 


223 


combinations and victory now, it will all be over in half 
an hour.” 

Hardenegg pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the 
perspiration from his forehead. 

“Yes, you are right,” he said, although it was to him 
a difficult task to turn his thoughts from the all absorb- 
ing theme. “ All this bustle and confusion will not 
change the final result. I will go over to the grand 
stand and greet some of my acquaintances.” 

“ Did none of the ladies of your own family accompany 
you ?” 

“ What an idea ! My wife hasn’t the slightest particle 
of interest in such things.” 

“And your sister-in-law? Since her riding lessons, 
she has shown the greatest affection for every thing that 
has four feet.” 

Hardenegg forced himself, hard as it was, to make a 
sportive reply. 

“For your sake I am very sorry that I did not bring 
her with me, Hartmuth, but perhaps it is just as well 
that I did not ; betting and love, you know, do not hold 
together.” 

Rhoden shrugged his shoulders. “ Bah ! I might as 
well put that beautiful dream away forever. My 
chances are slight.” 

Hardenegg looked at him attentively. 

“ How am I to understand that ? Have you changed 
your mind already ?” 

“ No ; but I have no false idea that your protection 
will count for much against the openly expressed 
aversion of your wife. And I repeat to you that I shall 
not put myself in a position to receive a refusal.” 

“ I pledge you my word, that she will accept you 
when you ask her.” 

“Well, we will speak further on this subject after the 


224 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


races. But I have something else to do now, so you 
must excuse me.” 

While Hardenegg walked over to the grand stand, 
Rhoden started for the scales. 

Near them a spindle-legged, meagre looking jockey, 
with a cigarette between his teeth, stood leaning against 
a post, talking carelessly with some officers. The pale 
face of this young man, whose every feature showed his 
English nationality, was not a pleasant thing to look 
upon. Notwithstanding this, the officers were convers- 
ing with him after as confidential and friendly a fashion 
as they would have done with an equal. Rhoden 
stepped up quietly to the little group without the 
jockey’s having apparently, noticed him. Even the 
keenest observer could not have detected the glance of 
understanding which was exchanged between the two. 

“You will add a new leaf to your crown of glory 
to-day, Richmond,” said one of the officers. “ It is very 
foolish of Vischering to let the ‘ Klabautermann ’ run 
at all. Henderson will make a master stroke if he gets 
a second or even a third place.” 

Fred Richmond took his cigarette from his mouth and 
blew the smoke out slowly. 

“Who knows?” he said, phegmatically. “He will 
win or lose one or the other.” 

“That’s a bit of sound wisdom,” laughed Rhoden, 
entering into the conversation. “ But I think that none 
of you have done the ‘ Klabautermann ’ justice in regard 
to his ability. I certainly don’t wish the animal to win, 
for all my money is on 4 Eglantine ’ ; yet I am sorry to 
say I do not share your confidence.” 

A bell sounded at this moment calling the horses for 
the first start on the programme, and the officers hur- 
ried off to obtain good places for observation, getting 
out their field glasses as they went. Fred Richmond 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


225 


remained leaning against his post as indifferent as ever 
and showing not the slightest interest in the race in 
which he was not a participant. Baron von Rhoden 
had not gone off with the officers, but stood by appar- 
ently as unconcerned as the jockey himself. 

“ Well, Fred," he said, half aloud in English, “ I hope 
we understand one another perfectly." 

“ I hope so too, sir," was the negligent answer. 
“ You have my promise." 

“Yes. And I know that one can rely on your skill 
too, when you mean to be honest." 

“ Honest, sir ?" The jockey grinned broadly. “ I 
believe you would be anything but content with me if 
I were." 

“ Well, you may call it what you please. You are to 
hold the ‘ Eglantine ’ back, under all circumstances." 

“ I’ll see that the poor beast don’t run herself to death, 
sir. But I make this sacrifice for you out of gratitude 
and a full heart, for it is sure enough that I lose by it." 

“ Why this fine speech, Fred, after we have settled on 
the money. You put a cursed high price on your little 
favor, at any rate, my fine fellow." 

“That’s as you please to look at it, sir. Would you 
wish to throw the whole business up ? I should will- 
ingly do so, for to speak frankly, it goes against my 
honor to carry out your plans." 

Rhoden answered him only with a sneering laugh, 
which seemed not to have the slightest effect upon the 
Englishman, nor to arouse him from his apathy. 

“ But if any one suspects foul play ?’’ he continued, in 
unchanged tones, snapping the ashes from his cigarette 
with his little finger. “ And if I am excluded from the 
race course for a few months, what then, sir ?" 

The Baron gave him a friendly slap upon the shoul- 
der, and leaning over whispered in his ear : 


226 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ If Fred Richmond were a bungler, the danger could 
still be avoided and suspicion averted by a little harm- 
less manoeuvre. I have looked well after that and know 
how to turn attention from you. I think we know one 
another, old friend.” 

Fred gave a half ironical, half flattered smile. 

“ Well, sir, you have my promise. I will do all I 
can.” 

Then they separated, surely with other feelings than 
those of mutual esteem and respect. 

Hardenegg had, in the meantime, gone slowly toward 
the front seats on the stand. He did not hasten, for he 
was indifferent to the acquaintances whom he would 
probably meet there, and old Kostomarow, whom he 
regarded in a certain measure as his guest, had, soon 
after their arrival on the race course, disappeared with- 
out leaving any trace of his whereabouts. So the Baron 
mounted slowly and almost reluctantly the high wooden 
steps. Suddenly he heard a voice which he thought he 
knew, and his countenance brightened wonderfully when 
on looking in the direction from which it came he per- 
ceived the Countess Hertha von Bassewitz. She was 
charmingly attired, and her face was partially hidden by 
a white silk and lace parasol. She was conversing ani- 
matedly with her father and an officer of Hussars. 

Without a moment’s reflection, Hardenegg went at 
once toward her. All his care and anxiety vanished 
instantly at the thought of meeting her again. Although 
they had spoken of the to-morrow’s races the evening 
before, she had not uttered one syllable of intimation 
that she would be there, and a flattering voice whispered 
to the Baron’s heart that she had perhaps been purposely 
silent in order to give him a delightful surprise. The 
amiable, bright manner in which she greeted him con- 
tained no contradiction of this assumption, and he felt 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


227 


his heart beat exultingly as he took in at a glance her 
almost overwhelming loveliness. 

Where had his thoughts been when he had listened to 
his mother’s well-laid plan for this marriage, and laughed 
it to scorn as a foolish chimera of her brain ? And 
where had his eyes been on that day when he had first 
beheld her budding beauty ? It would only have cost 
him a few words then to have torn asunder the net 
which was already over his head, and which was so soon 
to envelop him completely. If he had only come to his 
senses in time, this beautiful creature with all her 
bewitching charms would now have been his, making 
him the happiest and most enviable of mortals. 

He breathed heavily as he forced himself to appear 
gay and unconcerned. His mother’s last significant 
words sounded again and again in his ear, and it was as 
if a hobgoblin stood behind him, continually interrupt- 
ing his lively gossip with the beautiful Countess, with 
the mocking and scornful words : “ What is the painter’s 
daughter in comparison to her? Free yourself from 
your fetters and she is yours ! The chains which your 
own folly have forged can be broken !” 

The Count treated him in a friendly and pleasant 
manner, just as he would any other acquaintance of his 
own rank. So long as Hardenegg’s wife was not with 
him there existed no necessity for shunning him. 

“ You have become, within the past few years, quite 
celebrated in sporting circles, my dear Hardenegg,” he 
said, jestingly. “ You are doubtless here to-day to reap 
a golden harvest ?” 

“ Or to help some one else to garner his,” answered 
the other. “A race-horse, if one only learns to believe, 
it, is as little to be relied upon as any other implement 
which serves the whims of fortune. I’ll be glad, though, 
when the decisive race is over.” 


228 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“So you have been betting ?” said Hertha. “ I think 
after all there must be a certain charm in the suspense 
while one awaits the result of his ventures.” 

“Then let us make a bet, Countess. For the North 
German Derby, of course, for none of the other races 
to-day are of any importance.” 

“And what will the stake be, Herr von Hardenegg?” 

“ Anything upon which you decide. If you wish it, 
all I possess, house and lands, body and soul.” 

He had spoken these last words in a lower tone so as 
not to attract the attention of the Count. Hertha 
appeared to take it all as a joke, for she answered, 
promptly, without embarrassment : “ No, no, that is 

much too high for me. I don’t understand much about 
these bets, but I know that they are generally equal on 
both sides. But perhaps it would be better not to decide 
until after the race, then let the winner fulfil any wish 
which the loser sees fit to ask, whether trifling or heavy.” 

She looked at him, smiling carelessly as she spoke. 
The Baron controlled with difficulty the passionate 
glance of his eye, and the words which rushed to his 
lips and strove to answer carelessly. 

“ I accept the bet,” he said, quickly, “ and I beg you, 
Countess, to keep the conditions well in mind : The 
winner’s wish must be fulfilled, whether trifling or 
heavy.” 

“ Certainly ! But I warn you in advance that you 
will be the loser. I know nothing of the horses, but I 
will choose the best colors. Give me your programme. 
I see — there is blue and red. Jockey Henderson rides 
Count Vischering’s full blooded English horse ‘ Kla- 
bautermann ; that is my color.” 

“ Well, you have accidentally chosen the horse against 
which all my money is placed. Now I shall wish more 
ardently then ever that ‘ Eglantine’s ’ wings may grow.” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


229 


A few minutes later the signal for the start of the 
day’s special race was given, and the people on the stand 
and the thousands of eager spectators beneath, to so 
many of whom this race was of the deepest importance, 
turned eagerly to their places, or settled themselves as 
best they could, to watch with breathless anxiety and 
interest for what was so soon to follow. 

“ Eglantine” had won the best position on the inside 
of the track and Hardenegg noted through his glass with 
inward satisfaction the animal’s frame, and in what fine 
condition she seemed, for her to-day’s triumph or — defeat. 

“There is your enemy, Countess,” he said to his 
beautiful neighbor. “ Keep that yellow jockey well in 
your eye. I have never seen a better rider than he.” 

“What a disagreeable face he has,” replied the 
Countess. “ If I were the owner of that horse I would 
never trust that man to ride him.” 

Their conversation then ceased as did that of all 
others in that vast assemblage. Fourteen horses had 
been put in position and all eyes were upon them, and 
as the riders one by one took their positions, countless 
hails, jests and hurrahs were heard on all sides from 
their many admirers. In a few seconds the curiosity of 
the spectators had turned into the most eager and 
passionate interest. Even Countess Hertha had become 
excited, and it was as well for the Baron that it was so, 
otherwise a look at him at this moment would hardly 
have raised him in her estimation. His face had become 
a dark red, his eyes were unnaturally dilated, and his 
hands trembled so violently that he was forced to lower 
his field glass. He leaned heavily against the side of 
the parapet, and one could see the blood-swollen veins 
starting out on his forehead and neck and hands. 

He was not contented with the start. The “ Eglantine ” 
had won the best position, but the keen eye of the Baron 


230 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


was not quite so well pleased with the yellow jockey. 
It was not Fred Richmond’s way to force his horse so 
much at the start as he did to-day. It was a fine begin- 
ning, to be sure, but there was the great fear that after 
such exertions at first the horse’s strength would be 
used up, and certain uneasy movements of the animal’s 
head proved that she was n6t going with her usual 
steady security. 

The “ Klabautermann ” was fifth at the start, and 
seemed to make no exertions to advance ; he went 
slowly on, making no apparent effort, but gaining at 
every step. It was third, and now — now he was only a 
couple of lengths behind the flying “ Eglantine ” and all 
eyes were upon him. 

Hardenegg leaned as far out as was possible without 
losing his balance. If he had been in the race course 
himself, running against the horses for a wager, he could 
not have been more exhausted and breathless. Only 
two lengths behind and but half of the course covered. 
Fred Richmond seemed however to appreciate the situa- 
tion, and was apparently doing his best. The distance 
between “ Eglantine ” and “ Klabautermann ” seemed 
for a short time singularly unchanged, until suddenly 
scarce fifteen yards from the winning post, “ Klabauter- 
mann’s ” position changed ; one spurt and he was side by 
side with “Eglantine.” Fred Richmond beat his horse 
unmercifully, but the overtaxed, breathless animal was 
no longer in condition to make the final effort. With a 
spring “ Klabautermann ” passed the goal, half a length 
in advance of the other horse, amid the deafening shouts 
and cries of the multitude, who by this time were half 
crazy with excitement. Countess Hertha waved her 
handkerchief gaily and shouted out a loud “ Bravo ” to 
the happy jockey as he rode slowly past the stand on 
his exhausted but victorious horse. Then, for the first 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


231 


time she turned back toward the Baron, in order to give 
him a jesting word regarding his defeat. But when she 
saw his dark red, quivering face she was speechless. 
Hardenegg must, have noticed the surprise and conster- 
nation in her face, for he made a great effort to pull 
himself together and conceal his real feelings. But he 
knew that it would bean impossibility for him to restrain 
himself for any length of time even in the presence of 
the Countess. 

“ You are the victor, undoubtedly,” he said, with an 
artificial smile. “ I humbly await the fate to which you 
may assign me.” His excitement was so fearful that 
Hertha could not but see the terrible effort it was for 
him to wear the conventional mask, and she felt pain- 
fully disturbed. 

“ I have given no thought as yet to the request which 
I shall make of you,” she responded, coldly. “Later, 
perhaps, something fitting will occur to me.” 

She turned from him abruptly, toward the officer of 
Hussars who was coming back again with spur-clinking 
steps, and Hardenegg decided, after a slight hesitation, 
to leave the stand without the customary adieus which 
politeness demanded. 

With weary bearing he stepped across the grass plot 
in the centre of the course to seek out Rhoden. The 
next quarter of an hour would force from him one of 
the hardest decisions of his life, and he smiled grimly 
as he thought that he, the envied of thousands, as one of 
the richest land owners in the country, was now in such 
monetary difficulties, that he must either resign himself 
recklessly to the power of a friend, or place himself in 
the dirty hands of conscienceless usurers. 

He wandered around fully ten minutes before he 
caught sight of his friend. Rhoden stood in a secluded 
corner back of the weighing room in earnest conversa- 


232 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


tion with his English friend, Fred Richmond. The 
jockey had now thrown an elegant overcoat over his 
silk blouse, and the inevitable cigarette was already 
smoking between his colorless lips. He looked just as 
unconcerned and insolent as before the races. 

“ Do you know, good friend/’ Rhoden was saying, 
while happiness and victory gleamed in his eyes, “ that 
the pious wish that you’d break your precious neck, was 
not far from me. Was it really only a blind fatality 
that i Klabautermann ’ took the lead at the last ?” 

The jockey shrugged his shoulders indifferently. 

“ He took the lead and that must be enough for you, 
sir. I have kept my word, but how I kept it is my 
affair !” 

At this moment Hardenegg stepped up to them. 
With angry, threatening glance he looked at the slight 
looking Englishman. 

“ Until to-day I was of the opinion you understood 
how to ride,” he said, speaking in a peculiarly insulting 
manner, “ but I have learned to my sorrow that I was 
in error. You are a bungler, and one would scarcely 
care to trust you to drive a cab, much less to ride in a 
race.” 

The jockey smiled spitefully. He exchanged a quick 
glance with Rhoden, then turned on his heel and left 
them, without replying even by a single look. 

Hardenegg seized his friend’s arm impatiently. 

“What now?” he said. “Your prophecy has been 
fulfilled, and without your help I am lost.” 

“ You look at the matter too gloomily. It isn’t so bad 
as you think. But we cannot talk it over out here 
under the blue heavens and in the midst of this crowd. 
Let us go into the restaurant and drink a bottle of 
Heidsick !” 

The Baron made no dissent, and they both entered 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


233 


the pavilion. The half dark rooms were already filled, 
and it seemed for a moment impossible to get a seat, 
and especially any place for quiet conversation. At last 
Rhoden beckoned to a waiter. 

‘ Bring us a bottle of Heidsick to that little table 
over in the far corner ; it seems the only one not taken 
in the whole place.” The waiter was quick and soon 
brought them their wine and filled their glasses for 
them. These two had taken possession of their dark 
corner withour noticing the white-bearded old man who 
sat at the neighboring table. 

“ We can speak out here without fear, Hartmuth,” 
began Hardenegg. 

“ This affair has regulated itself after such a fashion 
that I think no farther discussion is necessary. Are 
you in the same humor regarding the subject which we 
discussed at Castle Buchwald eight days ago?” 

“ Yes. But at the time, I freely expressed to you 
my doubts as to your ability to fulfil my conditions.” 

Hardenegg frowned. 

“ It’s enough for you, I take it, that I have confidence 
in my own ability and that I pledge myself to meet 
your demands. You will, of course, go home with me, 
and I tell you now that you may to-day set any time 
you like for your betrothal and marriage.” 

“ Very well, it must be an early date. I told you that 
once before, on account of my family.” 

“All right! Shall I receive the necessary funds 
to-day ?” 

“ Yes, you can have the money to-day if you require 
it.” 

“ Without putting any incumbrance upon my estate ?” 

v Undoubtedly, since you have no power to incumber 
it.” 

It seemed to Hardenegg as though a fearful load had 


234 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


been lifted from his heart. He had drunk several 
glasses of champagne during their short conversation. 
As he looked around, he now for the first time, recog- 
nised the Russian who sat so near him in the dark cor- 
ner. An added color came into his face, for he saw to his 
dismay that Kostomarow must have heard every word 
of their bargain. He rose quickly and invited the old 
man to take a place with them at their table. 

“You will not, of course, gossip over what you have 
heard?” he said, forcing himself to smile. “You have 
lived long enough in the world to know that even the 
wealthiest men often get into temporary money embar- 
rassments, particularly if they are fools enough to risk 
much at cards or pin their faith to a horse’s legs. Just 
now I am myself in just such a little difficulty. A mil- 
lionaire who finds it hard to raise a few thousands — it 
has its comical side, has it not? But so it is ; and I 
cannot raise a penny on Buchwald, although it is alto- 
gether unencumbered.” 

Kostomarow, who had lost no word of this lightly 
given statement, nodded in assent. 

“ Of course not,” he answered. “ The estates are the 
property of Baron Botho von Hardenegg.” 

“Yes, the property of a dead man, whose sole legal 
heir I am. It’s the most absurd thing in the world, but 
I have already taken measures to bring this unnatural 
condition of affairs to an end.” 

“ I should think it was high time,” assented Kosto- 
marow, and his deep-set eyes sparkled brighter than 
ever. 

But Hardenegg noticed nothing, in fact he grew each 
moment more exultant over the relief which Rhoden 
had promised him. “ Of course, Hartmuth,” he said to 
his friend, “you must have some security, at least 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


235 


until the fulfilment of your desires. Whatever you 
decide upon as worth while.” 

“You can give me a note for the entire sum, payable 
in fourteen days. If within half that time my betrothal 
with Fraulein Stiller is an accomplished fact, I’ll give 
you back your paper in exchange for a simple note of 
hand due in three years.” 

“ That’s no more than fair. The thing is settled ; 
your word upon it, Hartmuth !” 

“ My word upon it ! If you wish, we can drive into 
town now or an hour later, in order to arrange the 
matter with my banker.” 

“And now a glass to our friendship and to the bonds 
of relationship which will in the future unite us all the 
more closely. And you must join us, Herr Kosto- 
marow. For to you I owe many thanks. If it had not 
been for our accidental meeting in the old artist’s rook- 
ery, and the positive assurance of the death of my uncle 
which I received from your mouth, things would be in 
different shape now.” 

Kostomarow had not heeded the request. His glass, 
whether through awkwardness or intent, had been upset 
and its contents spilled over the table. 

“ I have never spoken of the death of Botho von 
Hardenegg,” he said, and his voice had a deep, almost 
angry sound. “ It would not surprise me to see him 
standing thi§minute between you and your friend.” 

Rhoden pricked, up his ears, but the Baron’s good 
humor was not to be disturbed. 

“ You’d better be careful or my friend will imagine 
that you belong to the spiritualists,” he answered, laugh- 
ing. “ For if my sainted uncle should re-appear he could 
only come from the spirit world, and we are not quite 
benighted enough to believe in such a possibility. Herr 
Kostomarow, my dear Hartmuth, will tell you for your 


236 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


satisfaction, that sixteen or seventeen years ago on the 
snow-covered steppes of Siberia he saw my uncle fall 
under the rifles of Russian soldiers. Herr Kostomarow 
and the Baron were at the time endeavoring to make 
their escape from the mines in which they had been serv- 
ing out a penal sentence. Am I telling the truth or 
not ?” 

“Your words are true, Herr von Hardenegg !” 

“Very well, then ; that is more than enough to give 
us certainty as to his fate, but if your conscience requires 
that I add any qualification to my statement, I will 
willingly concede that you never said you had helped to 
bury him. We’ve talked enough, however, about the old 
gentleman, who seems to have done our family name 
little honor in a foreign land. Let us drink a silent glass 
to his memory ; then we’ll drink a foaming bumper to 
health and beauty. Fill your glasses, gentlemen — to 
those we love !” 

His eyes gleamed brightly. Rhoden had not seen him 
so gay for a long time. 

“ Here’s to your wife then, Herr von Hardenegg !’’ 
growled the old man in his hoarse, grating voice. 

But the Baron, who in his joy over his deliverance had 
forgotten all dignity and self-respect, laughed in his 
face. 

“ I hope it’s not my wife whom you love, Kerr Kosto- 
marow ? Still you are at perfect liberty to drink her 
health. For my part I am thinking of the fairest of all 
women, a goddess whose beauty far surpasses that of 
the divinity worshiped by our ancestors, whose name she 
bears.. Her health, gentlemen, her health !” 

He emptied his glass and flung it to the ground, where 
it flew into a thousand pieces, then he cast a glance at 
his watch and rose unsteadily to his feet. 

“ It’s time to arrange our wretched money matters, 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


237 


Hartmuth,” said he. “ Will you accompany us into the 
city, Herr Kostomarow ?” 

The old man shook his white head. “ I think I will 
remain here a little longer.” 

“ All right. Good-bye ! I trust chance will bring us 
together again somewhere.” 

He extended his hand in parting, but Kostomarow 
appeared not to notice the movement. 

“ I hope so, too, Herr von Hardenegg. Indeed, I 
think I may very safely promise you that we shall meet 
again.” 

The two friends allowed the Russian to pass out first 
in deference to his age, and he hobbled off while they 
walked towards the place where their carriage was 
standing. 

“ A most disagreeable old rascal,” said Rhoden, “ with 
a face to frighten children out of their wits, and take 
away a man’s appetite.” 

Hardenegg replied, with exuberant hilarity : “ Why, 
what’s the matter with you ? He’s simply an old fool 
who ought to have been shut up in a lunatic asylum 
twenty years ago. An old codger like that’s an amusing 
specimen to meet once in awhile.” 

The subject of these remarks, had he been seen by any 
one at that moment, would have given his observer 
ample cause for doubting the sanity of his understand- 
ing. He had halted at the first bend in the road which hid 
him from the view of his late companions, and had struck 
his knotted cane with great force into the grassy carpet 
at his feet, while he stretched out his haggard arm and 
shook his fist vehemently at the empty air. 

“ Yes, we shall meet again,” he hissed, unmindful of 
the casual passers-by who stared at him. “ And you 
will curse the hour when we do ! The measure of your 


238 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


vileness is full to the brim. It is time now for the dead 
to rise !” 

He hobbled on to the railway station, and the train 
took him back to town long before the two nobles in 
their carriage had reached it. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

On the following evening Hardenegg and Rhoden 
arrived at Castle Buchwald, and as their coming had not 
been announced, Hardenegg’s mother had not expected 
them. Since her return home she had adopted the 
manner of life of an invalid, never taking her meals with 
the household, and only appearing for a fleeting moment 
now and then during the day. 

Even her son did not see her on this evening as she 
had already retired to rest, and he did not feel like 
intruding upon her. So the two friends took their even- 
ing meal with Elfriede and her sister, and as the young 
mistress of the castle seemed more depressed and dis- 
heartened than usual, this repast was by no means gay 
or animated. Marguerite too was thoughtful and absent 
minded. She did not give the friendly attention which 
she had formerly done to Rhoden’s jokes and lively sal- 
lies. Perhaps it was her frosty behavior which made 
him, under pretext of fatigue, retire as soon as he had 
finished his meal, without even waiting to join Kurt in 
smoking a cigar or take a hand at ecarte. Marguerite 
had slipped out softly some time before, so that Har- 
denegg was alone with his silent and motionless wife- 
He was uneasy and nervous. His enthusiasm in the 
hour when it was suggested to him to free himself with 


THE BREACH OP CUSTOM. 


239 

one blow from the fetters which now bound him, had to 
some extent died away, and the difficulties which he 
would have to encounter in the carrying out of this plan 
pressed heavily upon him. Surely it would be best to 
get Rhoden’s debt off his mind first and explain the 
situation of affairs to-day rather than delay until 
to-morrow. 

“ It is fortunate that we can so soon find an oppor- 
tunity to speak to one another without fear of interrup- 
tion,” he said, in a tone more domineering than friendly. 
“ I have a pleasant communication to make to you, 
Elfriede. To announce a suitor for your sister’s hand.” 

She gave him a quick, surprised glance, and he fancied 
he read a look of anxiety in her eyes. That was enough 
to increase his irritability. 

“ I do not wish you to overlook,” he continued, with 
a marked sharpness of tone, “the fact that this is a 
piece of great good fortune for your family. And as the 
wooer is everything that is to be desired personally, as 
well as in birth and fortune, I have given my consent 
unhesitatingly.” 

“ And who is this suitor, Kurt ?” 

“ I think you must know to whom I refer, although I 
was greatly surprised at the earnestness and depth of 
his attachment. It is no other than my friend Rhoden.” 

Elfriede showed no signs of astonishment. Her hus- 
band’s impressive introduction on this subject had left 
no doubt in her mind that the Baron was the man, but 
the expression of sorrowful determination which came 
over her face proved that her feelings were anything but 
joyful. 

“ You certainly have not given your consent, Kurt, 
without asking Marguerite ?” she asked, in her soft voice, 
but there was a certain quiet intensity in her tones 
which he well remembered having heard before on the 


240 


THE BREA.CH OF CUSTOM. 


day on which he had so openly insulted the old painter 
And this was enough now to arouse within him passion- 
ate excitement and anger. 

“ And why not ?" he asked, violently. “ Do you think 
that Baron Rhoden, my tried and true friend, is not 
worthy to possess the hand of Fraulein Marguerite Stil- 
ler ?" 

Fearlessly she met his dark, angry glance. 

“ No, he seems to me altogether unworthy," she said, 
quietly and distinctly. “He would make her unhappy 
and I would never permit her to marry him." 

Hardenegg stared at his wife as if she was some 
strange creature, the like of which he had never seen 
before. He had been prepared for a weak, timorous 
attempt at resistance ; but this cool, open declaration of 
war confused him for the moment. 

“You will not permit it?" he repeated, after a sec- 
ond’s silence. “ And you imagine that that settles it ? 
I can but say to you that you will discover you have 
made a mighty error as to the extent of your power. I 
will put an end most decidedly to your childish expres- 
sions of dislike and aversion, which I have suffered too 
long already, and will ask you to remember that I have 
yet the good fortune to be the head of my own family. 
But I will not give you an opportunity to say that I was 
inaccessible to reasonable remonstrance. Give me your 
reasons for believing that Rhoden will not make your 
sister happy." 

“ I doubt the sincerity and genuineness of his love. 
I hardly think he would care to marry Marguerite at 
all were he not allured by the thought of triumphing 
over me — over me whom he hates with his whole soul." 

Hardenegg answered with a sneer on his lips. 

“I was not aware that my friend had any intense feel- 
ing either for or against you, and the assumption that 


RHODEN AND VON HARDENEGG AT THE RESTAURANT . — See Page 233. 


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THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


241 

he would have a desire for so petty a satisfaction is too 
ridiculous to command a moment’s credence. A man 
would hardly marry in order to vex some one whom he 
dislikes. If you have no sounder objections than these 
you must excuse me from listening to their enumera- 
tion.” 

“ And even if he did feel any love for her to-day, how 
quickly would this fire of straw be extinguished ? He 
has the reputation now of having broken many women’s 
hearts.” 

“ Well, what else ? Haven’t you learned in these four 
years that your narrow-minded views of life are far 
different from those of the society circles to which Rho- 
den by birth and education belongs ? Truly, you should 
not come to me with Sunday-School morality.” 

“This narrow-minded morality is my sister’s most 
sacred possession. When you destroy it you take from 
her life its happiness and its best impulses. Baron Rho- 
den might better choose his life’s companion from that 
circle in which, as you say, birth and education gives 
one so free and liberal a conception of life’s higher 
duties and obligations.” 

He perceived that her words were a severe judgment 
upon his own conduct ; it almost seemed as if she had 
read his secrets thoughts. A nameless fury welled up 
in his heart against this proud, fearless woman who 
stood opposite to him. 

“ Is it from your friend Werner that you have learned 
such virtuous wisdom ?” he asked, in spiteful anger. 
“And what pious excuse has he found for you and for 
himself, whenever any trifling ommission of this earn- 
est fulfilment of duty is to be overlooked ?” 

Her beautiful eyes opened wide. She did not at first 
grasp the nature of the insult which he had flung at 
her. 


242 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ Kurt !” came from her trembling lips. “ Is it pos- 
sible that your words have reference to me ?” 

Hardenegg felt that in his anger he had gone too far, 
considering the insufficient proof which the story related 
by his mother had given him. 

“ We will speak of that another time,” he said, gloom- 
ily ; “ for Pastor Werner’s account I will have to turn 
over another page. For to-night I wish above all to 
come to a distinct understanding concerning this mar- 
riage affair. You now know my wishes in regard to the 
matter, and for your sister’s sake it will be well for you 
to raise no further objection. But I will tell you some- 
thing which shall, I trust, remove all your doubts. 
Rhoden has not only my hearty consent, but he possesses 
also the means for a terrible revenge should I withdraw 
it. That he would make use of this means I have no 
doubt, for he would almost be forced to do so. Now 
reflect well, whether you will or will not use your influ- 
ence to induce Marguerite to refuse this proposal, 
which is the best one she will ever get. Will you, merely 
to gratify your foolish and unreasonable whims, not 
only interfere with your sister’s well-being, but with my 
prosperity as well ? For I can assure you that if you do, 
you and you alone will have to answer for it. I will 
give you until to-morrow to decide.” 

He started to leave the room, but her remonstrance, 
made with no show of anger, held him back. 

“I need no time, Kurt, and all you have told me only 
strengthens me in my determination to do my duty, 
which is surely a sacred one towards my sister. I know 
not what you have to dread from Rhoden, but I swear 
to you now that my innocent, unsuspecting sister shall 
not be the price of your ransom.” 

Hardenegg looked at her as if he would have struck 
her. He had made an avowal to her which was in 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


243 


itself a humiliation in order to conquer if possible her 
resistance, and in spite of all this she had not been 
moved fron her original determination. With clenched 
fist he stood before her scarcely able to master his 
fury. 

“ Woman !” he hissed, between his clenched teeth, 
“ have you forgotten what I have done for you and your 
tribe ? Have you forgotten the misery from which I 
took you, the sorrowful future from which I delivered 
you ? Had you no thought then of making a good 
match — of doing the best you could for yourself?” 

The more brutal his manner and words had become 
the more marble-like in appearance grew Elfriede’s 
face. 

“ It is just because I do not wish my fate to be 
repeated in Marguerite’s life that I shall oppose your 
plans by every means which I can command.” 

Hardenegg went to the table with quick steps and 
rang the bell violently. “ We will see about that,” he 
said ; “ I am a little curious to learn how far you will ven- 
ture to go in this affair !” Then turning to the servant 
who was just entering, he ordered : “Say to Fraulein 
Stiller that we wish to see her on a very important and 
pressing matter, and beg her to come here at once.” 
Silently, with his hands clasped behind him, he walked 
up and down the room. Elfriede went up to him and 
held out her hands beseechingly : 

“ Kurt, I beseech you — let me speak to my sister first. 
She knows nothing of life, and sees everything with a 
child’s eyes.” 

“All the better, then, for her judgment will not be 
biased. She shall not be influenced in the slightest by 
you.” 

The door opened and graceful, pretty Marguerite 
stood upon the threshold. Surprised and a little fright- 


244 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


ened at a summons at such a late hour she glanced 
doubtfully from one to another. Hardenegg went up 
to her and took her hand to reassure her. 

“We are just on the point, dear Marguerite, of dis- 
cussing a subject, which could not be satisfactorily con- 
cluded without you,” he said, as he led her to a chair. 
“ My friend Rhoden wishes to marry you, although that 
is to you, of course, no secret, for you have doubtless read 
his heart long ago, and I am here to sue for him. His 
fate lies in your hands. Will you make him the happi- 
est of men ?” 

The timid uncertainty of the young maiden had 
changed quickly into honest amazement. 

“ The Baron von Rhoden — I ? Ah, it is only a little 
joke, Kurt, which you are having at my expense.” 

“ No joke, but sober earnest ! My friend Hartmuth 
loves you devotedly, has done so ever since our ” — it was 
very repugnant to him to have to mention his wedding 
day — “since the first day he met you, and I have long 
noticed that he was not indifferent to you. Is there any 
need for my saying a word in his praise ? He is a noble 
fellow and a very wealthy man. He will make your 
life such that thousands of women will envy you, and 
they will have cause.” 

“ But how — how can it be possible ? He wants to 
marry me — me? And why did he not tell me so him- 
self ?” 

Hardenegg had looked fixedly at Elfriede as he spoke 
the last words. It seemed as though he hoped by his 
threatening, intense glance to keep her. silent. But he 
had not foreseen that Marguerite would hasten to her 
sister and hide her glowing face on her bosom. 

“ My friend came to me chiefly,” he continued in a 
raised voice, “ because he feared there might be some 
influence at work to which you would give heed, inimical 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


245 


to his interests. And for that very reason I beg you to 
give me your answer at once !” 

“ But I don’t know yet what it will be ! I cannot 
believe it is all true, I cannot indeed. Tell me Elfriede 
— dear Elfriede, what shall I do ?” 

“ If your own heart does not force you irresistibly to 
give ‘ Yes ’ for an answer, then — ” 

“ Silence !” thundered Hardenegg with reckless vio- 
lence, again throwing his tiresome mask from him. 
“ Your views in this affair are without significance, and 
Marguerite is old enough to consider and decide her 
future for herself.” 

Terrified by his vehement tone the young girl’s frame 
shook violently. She threw a sharp glance at the red, 
angry countenance of her brother-in-law, and then at 
Elfriede’s face, which, while almost stone-like in its com- 
posure, bore the marks of anguish. Although entirely 
ignorant of the inward workings of all this, she realized 
instinctively that in her hands lay the decision of some 
matter vitally affecting her sister’s happiness. Clinging 
more closely and tenderly to Elfriede, she said, looking 
earnestly at her sister’s husband : “ I believe that it 

will always be best for me to seek advice from my 
sister. And I will certainly not neglect doing so in a 
matter of so great moment to myself. I cannot give 
you the answer which you wish upon the spot. This 
proposal was most unexpected, and I need time for con- 
sideration. Can Baron Rhoden not allow me three days 
in which to decide, and if I can answer before — ” 

Hardenegg did not permit her to finish. He felt that 
here he had come to the limits of his power, and that 
another violent, hasty word might ruin his play alto- 
gether. With gloomy, knit brow he stepped close to his 
young sister-in-law and said : u The time for consider- 
ation is granted you ? although I confess I cannot under-’ 


246 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


stand the necessity. But I cannot forbear to give you 
a word of warning. Elfriede’s advice may be of inesti- 
mable value to you in all other things ; but here is a 
matter in which you alone must decide, and concerning 
which no one else should be responsible, especially one 
who is blindly prejudiced. I will not attempt to influ- 
ence you, but I do assure you, and most impressively 
too, that you can do your sister no worse service than by 
refusing to accept my friend’s offer. Think well on 
these last words of mine before you come to a decision ; 
now we’ve had enough for to-day — good-night !” 

He went out of the room and for several minutes after 
his departure Marguerite did not venture to speak. 
Sobbing she leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder 
and Elfriede put her arm tenderly around her. It was 
the latter who finally broke the silence. 

“ Do not weep !” she said, gently. “ You will be my 
strong, courageous little sister, who will not permit her- 
self to be forced by an idle, empty threat into any posi- 
tion to which her heart does not respond.” 

“Ah, Elfriede, if I only knew what I should do. This 
scene was frightful. I have never seen your husband 
act so before, and I feel very anxious and unhappy on 
your account.” 

“ In spite of that you must do what will bring happi- 
ness to your heart and content into your future life. 
You must not give your hand to this malicious man of 
the world, this gambler and libertine.” 

“ And if I say ‘ No,’ what will happen 'to you, 
Elfriede ?” 

“ Nothing that need cause you uneasiness. What 
could happen to me ?” 

“ Kurt’s words sounded very threatening. I think 
there is some terrible purpose hidden behind them. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 247 

What did he mean when he said I could do you no 
worse service ?” 

“I do not know, Marguerite. But whatever it may be 
you must make no mistake in your decision. Surely 
the sacrifice of one life is enough.” 

The words slipped almost unconsciously from the pale 
lips of the worn wife, and tore asunder the veil with 
which she had enveloped herself since the day when she 
accepted Hardenegg, and through which the young sis- 
ter had never been able to discern the anguish of heart 
and almost incomprehensible sorrow of her life at Castle 
Buchwald. Now Marguerite learned suddenly that 
there had been a terrible sacrifice and also for whom it 
had been made, and the knowledge came to her with a 
kind of sickening horror. But she scarcely understood 
the great change which the last few seconds had 
wrought upon her heart. Silently and sorrowingly she 
clasped her dear sister in her arms ; then she kissed her 
and whispered, tenderly : “ I have three days of grace, 
and who knows what may happen within that time ! 
Good-night, my own, precious sister — good-night !” 

She would w*ait until the end of the third day to see 
if any thing would really happen, but as she lay think- 
ing during the long sleepless night her decision was 
already taken. Why did she deserve a better fate than 
her cherished sister ? Was it not her duty to follow the 
noble example which Elfriede had set her ? It seemed 
very clear to her now that she must not refuse the 
Baron. Hardenegg had certainly meant what he said, 
it was no idle jest that his wife would be made to suffer 
for her delinquencies. She was glad of a little respite 
before the fatal word would be spoken, but Elfriede 
should never learn of the burden which was already 
pressing on her heart. 


248 


THE BKEACH OF CUSTOM. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

A light, one-horse carriage halted before the pastor’s 
house at Frauensee. With quick, elastic step Ewald 
Stiller sprang out, and Kostomarow followed, descending 
with greater deliberation from the high seat. The 
pastor’s old housekeeper watched them attentively from 
a chamber window, and marked with surprise the large 
trunk at the back of the little vehicle which indicated 
that the travelers had come to stay. Her master had 
made no mention of expected guests, and his mode of 
living was so simple and his circle of acquaintance so 
limited, that she felt confident these people, who ever 
they might be, were not expected. 

“ Perhaps they have been driven to the wrong house,” 
she thought, striving to cheer herself. “ The young man 
is certainly a handsome lad, but as for the old one he 
looks like the devil himself.” 

Nevertheless, she hastened to put on a clean white 
apron, before opening the door to the two strangers who 
were already coming up the garden path. She met them 
on the threshold, and the first few words of the old man 
destroyed her faint hope that there was some mistake. 

“ Is this Pastor Werner’s house ?” he asked ; “ and can 
we speak to him ?” 

“ To be sure, the Herr Pastor is in his study. And if 
I may ask with whom I have the pleasure — ” 

“ That is not necessary ! We will announce ourselves, 
and you need only show us the way. In the meantime, 
coachman, you can get the trunk down and carry it into 
the house. We will not detain you unnecessarily.” 

“ Heaven help us, this is a pretty kettle of fish ! You 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


249 


have come to stay then !” thought the housekeeper, but 
she gave no expression to her thought, for Kostomarow’s 
dark and forbidding face was before her, and he took 
away all her courage. Silently she led the way across 
the cosy little hall, with its white sand strewn board 
floor and high wainscoting, to the door of the young 
clergyman’s study. 

“Thank you, Frau,” muttered the old man; “and 
now will you have the goodness to look after our bag- 
gage ?” 

And as the woman, nodding her head, trotted away, he 
knocked on the door. A deep, mild voice called out,’ 
“ Come in,” and the next moment Ewald was grasping 
the hand and looking yearningly in the face of his old- 
time friend. 

Great was Werner’s surprise and delight at meeting 
his boy friend, and it was several minutes before he 
turned to the old man who still stood silently by the 
door leaning on his crutch. Werner recognized him 
immediately, although the two had never exchanged a 
word, and gave him a cordial welcome. 

Kostomarow shook hands with him, and a beam of 
joyful pride shone in his eyes as he said : “ I think my 

boy’s appearance furnishes proof that he has not gone 
to the dogs under my guidance, but I owe it to him to 
state that his own merits have been the most powerful 
forces at work to place him where he is. He is a brave 
youth and honestly deserves his happiness and fame. 
He would have done much without any assistance from 
me. And now, my dear Herr Pastor, will you relieve 
his mind by assuring him that his father and sisters are 
in the land of the living. I have told him so repeatedly, 
but your confirmation of my statement will be a relief 
to him.” 

Werner looked with astonishment at Ewald, 


250 


THE BREA.CH OF CUSTOM. 


“How is this? You have not come from them? 
Why, you must have passed them on your way here." 

Ewald looked a little embarrassed, but Kostomarow 
came, in his straightforward manner, to his 'issistance. 

“You must not scold him, for if I had not used my 
influence the soft-hearted boy would have thrown his 
arms around his father’s neck three years ago. But just 
now there is another matter pressing, and on my account 
he will wait a few days more before going to his own 
family. Shall we be able for that short time to take up 
our quarters with you ?” 

“My modest house is yours for any length of time. 
But does it not seem cruel, Herr Kostomarow, to keep 
this dearly loved son and brother even one day longer 
from his kinsfolk ?” 

“ I have already resigned myself to my benefactor’s 
wishes, John,” said Ewald, hastily. “ Herr Kostomarow 
has given me such numberless instances of his friendship 
and his warmth of heart that I would be guilty of 
unparalleled ingratitude if I acted in opposition to his 
will. And they are all well, are they not ?” 

“ Perfectly well, as far as I know.” 

“ And my sister Elfriede ? Is she happy ?” 

The clergyman’s face grew very earnest. He had no 
right to tell what he knew ; but he could not lie. 

“ If an earnest fulfilment of duty could make one 
happy, Ewald, then your sister certainly is so. For all 
else, you must question her.” 

The young artist asked no further questions. Wer- 
ner’s words and tone were a confirmation of what he had 
always feared. And Werner evidently did not care to 
continue the conversation, for he excused himself to his 
visitors and went to have speech with his housekeeper 
concerning the ways and means of housing his guests, 
and although the good old soul was not overjoyed at the 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


251 


additional trouble, yet she was anxious enough to do 
what lay in her power to please her dearly loved mas- 
ter. Her own sleeping room on the ground floor she 
gave up to Kostomarow, and to Ewald was given a pleas- 
ant little chamber under the gable roof, from the win- 
dow of which he had a delightful view over the village 
and across the green valley to where the proud towers 
of Castle Buchwald rose above the elms and oaks of its 
surrounding park. 

While the Russian was making his toilet, he had a 
short but very earnest conversation with the master of 
the house, and the result of their conference was that 
Werner gave his visitor a solemn promise that no one 
at the Castle, and as far as possible no one in the village, 
should learn of his guests’ presence. 

“ And how about that old dragon, your housekeeper ?” 
asked Kostomarow ; “ she has given me several vicious 
glances already, and I fear that her displeasure at our 
arrival will lead her to discuss this unexpected visit 
with her neighbors.” 

The pastor quieted his fear in that direction with a 
smile. 

“ She’s a little cross sometimes, I must confess, but 
true as steel, and when necessity requires it, as silent as 
the grave. You are in no danger from her.” 

“ Very well, then. So much the better. I hope to be 
able very soon to throw aside all mystery and conceal- 
ment.” 

“ I'm sure it’s very much to be desired, for I’m frank 
enough to say to you that it is exceedingly disagreea- 
ble to me.” 

“ But you will acknowledge that I am right, my young 
friend. You will acknowledge that I am right before 
three days have passed. And you will, from the bottom 
of your heart, ask my pardon for every doubt and sus- 


252 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


picion which you may now be tempted to entertain con- 
cerning the nature of my intentions/' 

Soon after, the old man left the house, telling no one 
whither he was going. The two friends settled them- 
selves for a long talk, and Werner listened with rapt 
attention to all Ewald had to tell concerning his experi- 
ences in the last four years ; although he touched but 
lightly and modestly upon his own achievements, Wer- 
ner understood enough to make his heart rejoice over 
the young musician’s success, and to sympathize with 
Kostomarow’s evident pride and satisfaction. 

The pastor was called away about noon to attend to 
some parish duties, and Ewald could no longer withstand 
the temptation to gcr for a walk in the surrounding coun- 
try. It was not for the first time that he set out from 
the little village, and he felt, in honor bound, to avoid 
Castle Buchwald to-day as he had done before. The 
longing to see his father and sisters was strong upon 
him, but to resist temptation was no new thing in his 
young life, and with his determination and moral force 
no hard matter either. 

He knew every step of the way to the meadow where 
his first heart’s joy with its bitter after-accompaniment 
had come to him. It was skirted with the dark green 
wood which he remembered so well and which marked 
for him the way now ; all appeared to him the same as 
on that never-to-be-forgotten day. The wood and the 
meadow, the murmuring brook and the cloudless blue 
heavens above them all. Nothing changed in all the 
long time, and he threw himself down in the long grass 
to dream again that sweet dream, the memory of which 
was ever in his soul. 

But to-day bitterness and heartache mixed themselves 
in this old dream of the beautiful, wild, outspoken child 
who had sat so contentedly by his side ; and he saw in 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


253 


her stead the lovely but haughty and aristocratic woman 
of the world, who had received him with much outward 
amiability and politeness, but perhaps made merry in 
her heart over his awkwardness of expression and ardent 
feelings. He saw her again promenading the long salon 
on Hardenegg’s arm, he saw her blush, heard her silvery 
laugh, and it almost seemed to him as if his deep love 
was turned to hate. 

But he had not patience to remain long on his soft 
green carpet. He sprang to his feet and looked for 
some path which would lead him in an opposite direc- 
tion from Buchwald. 

He had been wandering about *for half an hour in 
this peaceful and silent country, when he was suddenly 
aroused from his dreams by the sound of horses’ hoofs. 
The woodland path was narrow and he must step aside 
under the trees to allow the riders to pass. It was an 
elegant two seated brougham drawn by noble looking 
trotting horses. Behind the servant, who sat like an 
automaton upon the box, was a slender looking young 
woman, clothed in black. Ewald did not look at her 
face, so did not recognize her. But suddenly he heard a 
low cry of astonishment as the carriage passed him, and 
then his own name was called in a clear, distinct voice. 

Hastily turning, he saw the stiff coachman draw up his 
horses at his mistress’ command, and almost before he 
could tell who she was, she had sprung from her high 
seat to the ground. She gave the man an order which 
Ewald did not understand ; then she came with quick 
step across the moss to meet him, looking in her dark 
gown as tender, graceful and girlish as he had ever 
pictured her. Confused, embarrassed and withal unable 
to conceal his happiness, Ewald took off his hat. Hertha 
exchanged her long leather riding whip to the left hand, 
and extended her right as to an old friend. 


254 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ I am delighted to see you, although this is the 
second time you have essayed to slip off without a 
word of greeting. For your own credit I will assume 
that it was not accident which brought you to the road 
leading to my father’s house at Lankenau.” 

This time — and the certainty was bliss to Ewald — 
there was nothing conventional or stilted in the hearti- 
ness of her greeting. Only a few minutes ago that he 
had been nursing angry and bitter feelings towards her ; 
but now her bewitching smile had cast them to the four 
winds. 

“ If it was an accident, Countess,” he said, taking her 
soft, white hand in his, “it was of a kind which heaven 
very seldom accords. I had no presentiment that such 
good fortune was in store for me, and here you are 
before me in the twinkling of an eye, giving me no time 
even to express my gratitude for your presence.” 

She gave him a roguish glance. 

“A ready compliment of good Parisian fashion — is it 
not ?” 

“ It would grieve me greatly, if I thought you doubted 
my sincerity, Countess.” 

“Shall I not repay you in your own coin? Will you 
deny that you were not convinced of my sincerity when 
we met the other night at Count Hardenstein’s ?” 

“ Do you mean that I — that you — ” 

“ All I mean to say is this, that you would make a 
very bad diplomat. One can easily read in your face 
when your feelings and your words contradict each 
other. But you shall see that I am not angry with you. 
I should have been courageous enough to tell you hon- 
estly that in the midst of a company of hundreds of curi- 
ous, scandal-loving and more or less ill-disposed mortals, 
one cannot be so unconstrained and easy in their inter- 
course with friends as they may desire. A little 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


255 


hypocrisy is almost unavoidable, when there are more 
than two together. Here there is no one but the spectre 
of the wood, and I know from experience one has nothing 
to fear from his surveillance.” 

Her sweet, simple talk, was like fairy music in the ears 
of her young and ardent companion. His heart was 
aflame again with a bold and lofty hope, — a hope which 
encompassed in its magic circle all the joys of earth and 
a foretaste of the bliss of heaven. In his noble and gen- 
erous enthusiasm it seemed to him that the cool and 
balmy forest air which he was drinking in deep draughts, 
must lend him courage and power to overcome all the 
obstacles which stood defiantly between him and the 
realization of his daring dream. 

“Do you know, Countess,” he said, smiling, “that 
you seem to me to be nearer a wood sprite than a mor- 
tal. You have the refreshing naturalness of a child, and 
yet you are so wise with it all, that you are able to read 
the secrets hidden in the depths of a man’s heart. You 
remind me of the fay and the good spirit in the legend 
of the Sunday child, and my only fear is that you will 
vanish from my sight after a similar fashion.” 

She gave him no answer, perhaps he had expected 
none. But the pause in their conversation did not 
oppress her. Her heart and her eyes maintained with his 
the while an eloquent dialogue as she trod the sunlit 
mossy ground by his side. 

“ Tell me some of your experiences during the last 
four years,” she said softly, after a time. “ I should like 
to hear how you prospered and how you finally attained 
that for which you strove.” 

And Ewald related without embarrassment what he 
thought would interest her. Though the four years had 
been outwardly barren as regarded any startling events, 
yet they had contained for him a world of conflict and 


256 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


hope, of work and renunciation, and the young musician 
was astonished at his own command of language in relat- 
ing all this so readily and unhesitatingly. Never in his 
whole life had his speech been so warm and earnest as 
in this hour, and perhaps Countess Hertha Bassewitz 
had never before listened to any one with such thought- 
ful and undivided attention. Neither of them noticed 
the way which they had taken, until they came to a 
bend in their narrow path which showed them the val- 
ley far beneath them and the meadow-land stretching 
away to their left. They both looked at one another, 
and Hertha gave a surprised laugh as she gazed at the 
bright, glorious landscape. Then they turned with one 
accord toward that spot which was fraught with such 
significant memories for them both. 

They stood on the edge of the little clear, chattering 
brook, and Hertha said, looking over at the little grassy 
mound on the other side : “ Do you recognize the spot? 
Let us cross and rest there.” 

A few brown stones peeping above the surface of the 
water seemed to offer a safe and convenient crossing. 
Ewald sprang gallantly into the shallow stream which 
scarcely rose above his ankles, and reached out his hand 
to steady Hertha as she stepped from stone to stone. 
Whether she was confused by the warm pressure of his 
hand or by his ardent glances, or whatever the reason 
may have been, her foot slipped from its slimy hold and 
she would have fallen had she not hastily thrown her 
arm around her companion’s neck. 

The pressure of that soft and clinging arm dispelled 
in an instant all Ewald’s timorous reserve. He clasped 
her in his arms in a tumult of exultation and delight : 
“ Hertha, my darling Hertha !” he whispered, while his 
lips almost touched her blooming cheek. Unresistingly 


MARGUERITE GAZED WITH PROUD DELIGHT ON HER FATHER’S WORK . — /See fage 
















































THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


257 


she permitted herself to be borne across the brook to 
the grassy mound on the other side. 

He did not, however, take his arms from around her, 
for he almost seemed to fear she would dissolve into 
thin air, as had the woodland sprite in the legend. 
Again and again he called her by her name. And she 
did not say him nay. Her lovely, glowing face rested on 
his shoulder, and he could feel the quick pulsations of 
her heart, as he looked into the depths of those eyes 
which now bespoke a world of love, devotion and happi- 
ness. 

The old clock in the church tower of Frauensee had 
struck several quarters before this world-forgetting pair 
aroused themselves from their blissful dream. When its 
tones finally attracted Hertha’s attention she sprang up 
hastily : “ Oh, my poor, dear father is waiting for me ! 

I gave the coachman orders to wait for me at a certain 
place by the woods, and he will surely believe that I have 
fallen into the hands of a band of robbers. And I won’t 
be able to look him in the face, all on your account, you 
bad man !” 

Ewald was very anxious to accompany her to the car- 
riage, buc she forbade him very decidedly. 

“Then I should be an hour or two longer reaching 
ic,” she ^aid. “ No, no, I will go alone ; 'tis but a short 
distance, and I know my way well.” 

“And when shall we see one another again ?” 

“When ? Why, will you not come to us ? I cannot 
deceive my dear, good father. I can have no secret 
from him.” 

“ Do you believe that he will consent, Hertha ? — I am 
only a poor, burger violinist ?” 

She laughed, for that fact did not seem to weigh heavily 
on her soul. 

“ Ah, my brave knight, that is now your affair ! That 


258 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


my heart belongs to you, I have betrayed in a moment of 
foolish weakness, and you must obtain my hand by 
either playing or fighting, as circumstances dictate. 
You have certainly proved that you have courage, and I 
will do what I can to help you.” 

“ In the consciousness of your love I shall be strong 
enough to battle with the whole world. One sacrifice I 
must demand of you. For the next three days at least 
our happiness must remain a secret between ourselves. 
I am staying with the pastor of Frauensee who is a dear 
friend of mine, and the family at Castle Buchwald must 
not learn that I am in the neighborhood. I am asking 
nothing wrong of you, my sweet love, you may be sure 
of that ; only have entire confidence in me. In a few 
days you will know all ; then I will go to your father with 
all openness. Will you promise me to be silent for so 
long ?” 

“ It won’t be easy for me ; but I see already, you ter- 
rible man, that I shall be obliged to do what you tell 
me !” 

“ But of course we must see each other before then ; 
some time to-morrow. And where, dearest, where shall 
it be ?” 

“ I do not know. It is not impossible that I may be 
here to-morrow at this hour, gazing into this charming 
stream and thinking of the narrow escape I had from 
finding a watery grave there to-day,” she said, laughing. 
“ This is not an invitation for a rendezvous, my dear 
sir ! I do not expect to find you here — do you under- 
stand, I do not expect to find you !” 

As she said the last words she turned to go. Ewald 
would have detained her yet a moment longer, but she was 
quicker than he. Turning to look back she threw him 
a kiss, and a second later had disappeared like a flash of 
light between the dark green branches of the trees. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


259 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

Hardenegg found his mother in an apparently very 
weak and suffering condition. She received him lying 
on a couch, and feebly motioned him towards her as he 
entered the room. 

“ How good it is to see you again, my son !” she said. 
“ Ah, it has been so frightfully lonely for me here, every- 
thing seems so barren and empty. You can never know 
how much sorrow and heartache I have endured since I 
came back !” 

“ What’s that, mother ! I trust that since your return 
no one has failed in showing you the respect and honor 
which is your due ?” 

The old baroness shook her head with a pained smile. 

“ It is not that : You cannot believe, Kurt, that I 
could have any intercourse with this painter family. 
But no matter how strenuously I strive to seclude myself 
in my quiet rooms from all contamination from without, 
I cannot prevent it forcing itself upon me and robbing 
me of all peace and rest !” 

“ You speak rather enigmatically, dear mother. What 
is it that is really forcing itself upon you ? Have you 
heard or seen anything new concerning — ” he stam- 
mered — “ concerning the conduct of my wife ?” 

“I? Do you mean that I have been following after 
your wife like a spy ? No, I have scarcely been face to 
face with her once a day, and I should not have known 
the slightest thing about her comings and goings, had they 
not become a subject of jest among the servants of your 
household.” 

“ Mother !” 


260 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ Yes, my son. I should be doing you an ill service if 
I did not open your eyes to that which is bringing the 
honor of your name into open scorn among the stupid 
gossips and peasants on your own land. And you will 
perhaps be less deeply wounded to learn from your 
mother’s lips what may be brutally flung in your face 
before another day passes over you.” 

“ But, my God, what is it? You speak as though 
Elfriede had been guilty of some terrible crime !” 

“ You are not capable of understanding her. You cer- 
tainly married her because you loved her, and it is not 
your fault if she had other reasons for becoming your 
wife.” 

“ Mother, I must beg you to stick to facts. Whether 
or not my wife loved me at the time of our marriage is 
a question which she alone can answer, and is quite out- 
side of any knowledge you may possess.” 

The baroness raised herself from her recumbent 
position. Her son’s remonstrance effected an instanta- 
neous change in the invalid, and her voice had a harsh, 
sharp sound, as she answered : 

“Are you really yet in a state of uncertainty ? Iam 
truly sorry that I shall have to disturb that touching 
frenzy of yours concerning the affection which the 
painter’s daughter feels for you. A glance at this letter 
may enlighten you as to the value of your illusion.” 

She drew from the pocket of her elaborate morning 
gown a small folded sheet of paper which she handed to 
him. The Baron von Hardenegg took it hesitatingly, 
and before even glancing at it he asked : “ What kind of 
a letter is this, mamma ? Who has written to you ?” 

“ It is not directed to me, but to your wife !” 

“And how did it come in your possession ? I cannot 
believe that you obtained it by any wrong means.” 

“ Your wife evidently placed little value on its con- 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


261 


tents. At any rate it was found by one of the curious 
grooms, and had perhaps gone the rounds of the ser- 
vants hall before it fell into the hands of my maid, 
who, as luck would have it, is an honest and reliable 
person, and considered it her duty to give it to me.” 

“It seems to me that it would have been her duty to 
give it to the person to whom it was addressed. The 
whole affair is scandalous, and I will turn the whole rag, 
tag and bobtail out of my house.” 

“ In order that they may carry the scandal out into 
the world ? You have not always exhibited such tender 
feeling for your wife !” 

Hardenegg held the letter in his hand, but he could 
not make up his mind to read it. He rose from his 
seat by his mother’s side and paced the floor, evidently 
battling with himself. 

“ This manner of obtaining possession of another’s 
secret is repulsive to my whole soul,” he said. “ I do 
wish, mother, you had not mentioned this letter.” 

“ I should not have brought it to your notice had I 
not realized that my further communications would be 
doubted without this convincing proof.” 

“All on my account, then !” he exclaimed, impatiently. 
“ But I cannot longer endure such insinuations and 
veiled accusations.” 

He opened the letter hastily after glancing at the 
address, and then read every word carefully from first 
to last. 

It was the one which John Werner had written to 
Elfriede Stiller the morning of. her betrothal to Har- 
denegg, and which had influenced her to accept him. 
The Baroness had not deemed it necessary to explain to 
her son how her “honest and reliable” maid had come 
into possession of this old letter, well knowing that after 


262 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


its perusal his conscientious scruples would trouble 
him no more. 

His jealous distrust of Elfriede had taken deep root 
in his heart long ago. And here was the written proof 
of the young clergyman’s feelings towards her. He had 
been right then in his assumption that Werner was his 
rival — and he felt that he was being forced by them to 
carry out his own and his mother’s schemes. 

The hot blood mounted to his forehead as he read 
this dignified and yet pathetic leave-taking, and his 
mother’s sneering comment echoed for hours in his 
ears : “ You were accepted for your money, and this 
self-conscious and insolent person’s magnanimous renun- 
ciation is all that saved you from wearing the willow !” 

He crushed the letter in his clenched hand as he fin- 
ished its second reading. 

“The vile wretch !” he muttered between his closed 
teeth. “ And the hypocrite had the face to bless our 
marriage ; and to brazenly sit, with his sanctimonious 
air at our wedding feast. Oh, that I had struck him in 
the face at the altar, or pitched him from the balcony 
when I surprised him at his rendezvous with my wife 
on our wedding night.” 

His mother deemed it wisest not to interrupt his first 
angry outbreak, but her eyes glistened beneath their 
half-closed lids. How fortunate had been the accident 
which disclosed to her in almost the first hour of her 
arrival her enemy’s secret ; she had anticipated a much 
harder struggle to win her son from his allegiance to 
his wife, but everything seemed to play into her hands. 
Patiently she waited for question or speech from him, 
for she was not quite sure of her ground even now, and 
felt that any untoward utterance might yet spoil all. 
But she did not have long to wait. The Baron thrust 
the crumpled letter into his pocket, stood staring for a 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


263 


minute or two vacantly into the park, and then turned 
again with an almost fierce motion to his mother. 

“But this is not all! You said just now that you 
only gave me the letter in order to convince me that 
your further communications were reliable. Why do 
you keep me waiting so long for these ‘further commu- 
nications’ ? Of what sins do you accuse Elfriede ? 
And why am I held up to scorn by the peasantry on 
account of her ‘ comings and goings ’ ?” 

“You should not allow yourself to become so ex- 
cited, my dear son ! Delicate and painful matters 
such as this, need to be considered and acted upon 
with deliberation and in cold blood. I shall not have 
the courage to say more if you do not hold yourself 
well in hand.’’ 

“ But all this mummery and preamble nearly drives 
me crazy. Out with it, mother ! I am ready to listen 
quietly to anything now !” 

“ Very well ! Your wife has secret meetings, day after 
day, with Pastor Werner, and when she starts down 
alone toward Frauensee, sometimes at nine o’clock in the 
evening, occasionally an hour earlier, the servants smile 
significantly at one another, and gossip among them- 
selves. Yes, and all the people round about here know 
where their place of meeting is. Not at the parsonage 
— oh no, the worthy parson is too cautious for that — 
but in the isolated little house behind the mill dam, 
where the day laborer Karston lives. That is the place 
which they have selected for their meetings ! And your 
servants have watched Frauensee’s pastor and my son’s 
wife go in that hut together and sometimes not leave it 
again until after eleven o’clock.” 

This time the Baron did not ask his mother from 
whence her information had come. It was too circum- 
stantial to be a light accusation. His mother had 


264 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


nothing more to tell him, but she had made what few 
moves she had with skill, and her son had taken for Gos- 
pel this account of his wife’s deception — perhaps guilt 
— although he would have repelled it with contempt a 
few short weeks ago. All his anger and passion were 
gone, but in his face was a vindictive calm not pleasant 
to look upon. Without meeting his mother’s eye he 
said : “ This is naturally the end of it ! I shall now 

know what steps to take.” 

“What are you going to do, Kurt ? If an open scan- 
dal cannot be avoided it must at least be circumscribed 
as far as possible. I beseech you to do nothing of which 
you will repent.” 

“Don’t be alarmed. A clergyman won’t fight; not 
that I think that hypocrite worthy of powder and shot. 
But I’ll give myself the pleasure of being present at their 
next meeting in the old mill house y and giving them a 
little surprise. That’ll be the shortest way to let them 
know I’m not blind, and to end the matter, and I’ll have 
the satisfaction at least of tearing the mask from the 
face of this saint.” 

“ I hardly know, Kurt, whether that will be the best — ” 

He interrupted her sharply and rudely. 

“What’s to be done now is my affair and no one’s else. 
And I shall appreciate it, mother, if you’ll not meddle 
with it. It’s not agreeable to a man to canvass the 
length and breadth of such a thing even with his own 
mother.” 

The Baroness pressed her handkerchief to her eyes, 
and sank back upon her pillows apparently deeply 
wounded. 

“ I know full well that the bearer of ill tidings must 
always feel the lash,” she said in a weak voice. “ But 
for the sake of your future happiness I am willing to 
endure much.” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


265 


The words “ future happiness ” brought Hertha von 
Bassewitz back to Hardenegg’s mind, and it came to him 
suddenly that his mother’s thoughts were also of her. 
Under any circumstances he knew he could count upon 
her earnest support, and he admitted to himself that in 
order to win the race for which he had decided to book 
himself, he would have need of all the assistance which 
she could render. It was with a feeling of deep and 
heartfelt thankfulness that he took her slender, fragile 
hand in his and kissed it tenderly, while he murmured a 
few loving words in order to dissipate the impression 
which his rough ones had caused. Then when he saw, 
by her softened expression, that his peace was made, he 
left her. 

But another dark and threatening cloud hung over 
his head, from whose destructive power he could alone 
be saved by the good offices of the sister of that wife 
whose ruin he had just been compassing in his mother’s 
boudoir. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

Marguerite had avoided seeing her sister alone on the 
day following her agitating interview with Hardenegg. 
She felt that her last night’s decision still stood upon a 
weak foundation, and that she would have little strength 
just at present to withstand Elfriede’s tender appeals. 
For one moment she had thought to tell Hardenegg at 
once of her determination, but her wish to retain her 
freedom until the last moment decided her to be silent. 

Then she must immediately acquaint her father with 
the offer which she had received. Marguerite knew well 


266 


THE BREA.CH OF CUSTOM. 


that he would not attempt to influence her one way or 
the other, but she felt it her duty to talk the matter 
over with him. 

So she waited for the moment when he — as was his 
wont soon after breakfast — should slip from the room 
and start out for his solitary daily walk, which must 
have been an extended one, for he very seldom appeared 
again until the close of the day. Balthasar Stiller was 
by no means agreeably surprised when, just as he 
reached the entrance to the park, his youngest daughter 
suddenly took his arm and begged permission to accom- 
pany him in his walk. At first he suggested several 
reasons why she had better not do so, but when he 
finally saw that she was determined to bear him com- 
pany, he accepted her decision with his usual light- 
heartedness. 

“Very well/’ he said, “I will take you with me. But 
beforehand you must promise me to be silent. You are 
the first one who will learn my secret.” 

“Your secret, papa? So your rambles have a definite 
purpose ?” 

“ Certainly. Did you believe that I was such a thief 
of the day as to wander aimlessly about for hours ? 
Oh, you shall see wonderful things, my child, things 
which will make you open your eyes in astonishment ! 
But I will never forgive you if you betray me.” 

Marguerite doubted not but what she had stumbled 
on one of her father’s harmless eccentricities, for he had 
nourished many of them in his day ; but a feeling of 
uneasiness came over her when he suddenly plunged 
into the depths of the royal forest. 

“ Where are we going, papa ?” she asked, gently. “ Is 
it absolutely necessary to take this way ?” 

The old man laughed at her query. 


the breach of custom. 


267 


“ Absolutely necessary, you curious daughter of Eve ! 
But you need have no fear. I am quite at home here.” 

“ Perhaps you are going to the— to the—” 

“ Well. You evidently find it hard to speak out, and 
I see that I must appease your curiosity. Yes, I am 
going to head-forester Reinach’s, my friend who saved 
my life, and who is the truest man that ever wore a 
green hunting-jacket. But what is it, my child ? Are 
you regretting already that you decided to accompany 
me ?” 

At the remembrance of Reinach, Marguerite had 
suddenly stood still, and her indecision as to whether 
she would or would not go farther, was visible in her 
face. 

“ It hardly seems the thing to follow you to the house 
of a stranger, father,” she said, hesitatingly, while a 
treacherous blush flew to her cheeks. “What would 
the forester think ?” 

“As I know him well, he would not take great offense 
at it; but your concern is superfluous, my child. 
Reinach is never at home at this hour, and if you wish 
it, he shall never hear a word of your visit.” 

Marguerite saw that if she refused to go on now, after 
having insisted at the outset, her father would think her 
very childish. She could not tell him her real reasons 
for not wishing to meet Reinach, so she went on with- 
out further comment. Although she had started out 
with the express intention of telling her father about 
Rhoden’s proposal, she found she could not open her 
lips on the subject after Reinach’s name w r as brought 
up. The memory of their few meetings was as fresh 
in her mind as ever. His face, his glance, yes, even the 
tones of his voice she recalled distinctly, and the more 
she thought of him the harder grew the sacrifice which 
she was about to make for her sister’s sake. 


268 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


So they reached the head-forester’s home without 
any mention having been made of Baron Rhoden and 
his offer. Marguerite was beginning to know her own 
heart, and her breath came quickly as she followed her 
father up the steep wooden steps whose balustrade was 
completely hidden by the climbing oak-fern. Balthasar 
Stiller seemed even more at home here than he had in 
the wood, for he contented himself with simply nodding 
kindly to the lad who came to meet him, and then he 
opened a door on the first floor with a key which he 
took from his pocket. Marguerite need only cast one 
glance around the large room to know the nature of the 
secret which the historical painter was guarding so 
jealously. What she saw before her was a roomy studio, 
with home-like and artistic appointments, while the 
stuffed birds, animals’ heads and antlers which adorned 
the walls, bespoke the forest home. 

“ See, my dear child !” exclaimed the old man, looking 
around the room with delight, “ this is my sanctuary, 
and the temple of friendship which this unsurpassable 
man has shared with me. Here have I found that one 
is never too old to learn something new, and I shall yet 
win a great name for Balthasar Stiller.” 

Marguerite listened with but half an ear to his words. 
She scarcely ventured to look around, for at any 
moment she might hear Herr Reinach’s step upon the 
stair. But as the house remained perfectly quiet, she 
at length found courage to cross the room at her father’s 
invitation, and look at the work which he, with great 
care, was just uncovering. And what she saw there 
astonished her beyond measure. 

“Is it possible, father?” she cried. “Are you paint- 
ing this picture ?” 

The old man smiled half sorrowfully, although he 
was flattered. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


269 


“ The question does not surprise me,” he answered, 
“ for I am very well satisfied with my new departure. 
Yes, that is the work of my own hand. I have thrown 
the ideal of my life to the four winds, and on the thresh- 
old of old age have turned me to new gods. I pray the 
old ones may not revenge themselves upon me.” 

The picture was a quiet landscape, only a forest scene, 
but it told of a master’s touch. It was a lonely lake, 
upon whose glassy surface the dark, over-hanging 
branches and still darker trees in the background cast 
their gloomy shadows, while the sun’s rays gleaming 
faintly through the lofty boughs, lit up the picture ; it 
was, in fact, the very sheet of water with which the 
painter had made such a melancholy acquaintance but 
a few weeks before. The details were Stiller’s own 
imaginings, and he had caught the poetical and roman- 
tic spirit of oppressive solitude just as it had over- 
powered him on that never-to-be-forgotten day. He 
had succeeded beyond compare in transferring it all to 
his canvas. 

While Marguerite gazed with proud delight and 
childish surprise at her father’s work, he stood behind 
her with beaming countenance, and chattered gaily 
about this, the first secret he had ever kept. 

“ It is the creation of my own hands,” he said, “ but I 
could not truly call it the child of my soul. I began 
again on the old subjects, feeling that I must accomplish 
some great work this time, or failure would be the 
grave of all my artist’s longings. Again the fantastic 
visions of earlier days floated before me, and I sketched 
and drew until the sweat dropped from my brow ; but 
my hand had lost its cunning and I could do nothing. 
The storms of life had not passed over me for naught ; 
they had taken from me my powers of conception. I 
had given of my best to my one ideal, and now, it too 


270 


THE BREACH OF CtTSTOF. 


had flown. And I think I should have died in despair, 
had not my vigilant, honest friend, been once more my 
rescuer. Day after day he came here and placed him- 
self behind me in order to be assured of the progress 
of my work, and though he said nothing regarding it 
for a long time, yet I knew that it was the eye of a 
friend which watched my progress, and what was better 
still, that his heart was in my work. One day he laid 
his hand quietly on my arm, and said : * Why do you 

expend so much pains and talent upon the unintelligible 
and indescribable ? Why do you strive to give form to 
the unearthly ? for no painter, living or dead, has ever 
been able to picture what eye hath not seen, but I can 
see that you have a master’s talent in another direction. 
Just look at this sketch of a meadow, with that clump 
of trees to the left ; you have done it hastily because 
you considered it a trifling subject, but it is the best of 
all your paintings. I am only a dilettante myself, and 
meddle a little in several arts ; but my unbiased judg- 
ment is that if you take your heavenly figures off your 
easel and put your landscapes in their place, that soon 
you will have all the world in ecstacies over your 
work !' I don’t know how it was, but his words made a 
powerful impression on me, perhaps because he had 
saved my life, or perhaps because they had an earnest, 
almost prophetic sound. But on that self-same day I 
made my sketch, and began to paint next morning. The 
head-forester thinks it good, and I mean to make it so ; 
for it is to him I am indebted, no matter what I accom- 
plish !” 

Marguerite had only heard a part of her father’s mono- 
logue, for her mind was not free enough to-day from 
the destiny that seemed hanging over her, to follow for 
any length of time another train of thought. But she 
realized that all which had been said was in glowing 


THE BKEACH OF CUSTOM. 271 

praise of Reinach, and though on a former occasion she 
had thought her father’s praise exaggerated, she was now 
assured that his kindness to the old man was but a 
characteristic of his noble nature. Again a feeling of 
sorrow came over her that she had never been able to 
explain to him her conduct in the ball-room. Reinach 
was now her avowed enemy ; he had displayed, with 
almost insulting frankness, his feelings towards her, and 
her pride made her long to contradict her father’s eulo- 
gies. But she could find neither words nor heart for 
such contradiction, when she saw how happy it made 
him to do honor to his friend’s noble qualities. 

While the painter was making ready to begin his day’s 
work, Marguerite went around the studio, apparently 
inspecting the many pictures and curios with which it 
was adorned, but in reality striving to gain courage to 
tell her father of the proposal which had come to her 
through her brother-in-law on the previous night. Care- 
lessly she turned the leaves of a small sketch book which 
lay on the table, thinking it was her father’s, and paying 
little attention to its contents. One page however drew 
from her a murmur of surprise, for she could not doubt 
that she was the young, slender girl, who was represented 
in this sketch as riding on a fine horse through a nar- 
row forest path, with head turned a little to one side, 
as she bent forward, and a look of eager interest on her 
lovely face. 

“ Well, papa, you have done me great honor !” she 
said, as she took the book to her father. “ I did not 
know you were such a flatterer !” 

He looked at the drawing and shook his gray head. 

“You have come to the wrong address, my child ! I 
am innocent of this offence, and if you have any com- 
plaint to make you must go to the owner of the sketch- 
book !” 


272 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


The color deepened perceptibly in Marguerite’s face. 

“ No, it is not possible ! You do not mean to say that 
the head-forester drew this ?” 

“ Certainly. Who else was there to do it ? Although 
I confess I am a little astonished, for I don’t remember 
that he has ever spoken of you.” 

Marguerite took the book hastily, and put it back in 
its place on the table. And nothing in the world could 
have induced her just then to tell her father of her com- 
ing betrothal to Rhoden. 

“It is high time for me to be going,” she said hur- 
riedly, endeavoring to hide her embarrassment, 
“when I begin to rummage through others’ possessions. 
Remember, you are not to mention to Herr Reinach that 
I was here, father. One secret to balance another, you 
know.” 

He assured her that he would keep his own counsel, 
and Marguerite hastened to leave the forest-house. But 
6he did not breathe freely until she was walking swiftly 
beneath the dark trees, every step taking her farther 
from Reinach’s home. She soon felt secure from dis- 
covery, and from any mortifying meeting with him. She 
had plunged hurriedly into the forest, and in her haste 
and disquietude had not noticed in which direction she 
had gone. Suddenly she halted, realizing that she had 
lost her way. 

At that moment the loud bark of dogs sounded in her 
ear ; then she recognized the shrill, quick whistle with 
which Rhoden was accustomed to call his hounds, and 
she remained standing, uncertain which way to go in 
order to escape meeting him. The dogs were coming 
nearer, and quickly, too ; she knew that by their yelps. 
There was a crackling and breaking of the light under- 
brush, and she heard distinctly the mournful, complain- 
ing moan of a wounded or pursued animal. Scarcely 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


273 


twenty feet from her a graceful roe appeared, running 
through the low bushes seeking a retreat. Its slender 
frame and small limbs, and the white flecks upon the 
red-brown skin, told that it was a young animal, and for 
that very reason it was unable to escape from the blood- 
thirsty brutes which were on its track. Yelping, with 
glittering eyes and hanging tongue, one of Rhoden’s 
great hounds was close upon its victim, and with a cry 
which pity and anger forced from her, Marguerite saw 
the huge animal give a fearful spring and bring the tor- 
tured roe to the ground. But the punishment was 
quicker than the crime. Befo're the dog could get its 
cruel teeth in the neck of the sad-eyed creature, a shot 
echoed through the woods, followed by a piercing howl. 
The hound released its victim from its clutches, and 
rushed, half mad with pain, back again a few yards into 
the forest. 

Marguerite stood breathlessly watchihg this little 
woodland tragedy, regardless of her own desire to escape 
notice. Now she hastened toward the hunted roe in 
order to see for herself whether it needed help or not. 
She had often caressed the Baron’s magnificent hunting 
dog, but after the scene which she had just witnessed, 
she felt a positive aversion for it, and felt no compunc- 
tions for its sufferings. 

She bent tenderly over the moaning creature, and 
strove to raise it to its legs, but one of them had evident- 
ly been broken, and she also noticed a wound on its 
head. She laid her cheek caressingly against its soft 
skin, and in her sympathy entirely forgot her wish to 
remain in concealment. 

Behind her she heard a loud, angry voice, which she 
knew full well. Rhoden had come in order to call the 
slayer of his dog to account, and he had already found 
him, for in answer to his violent, excited words, Mar- 


274 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


guerite heard a quiet, earnest, manly voice, which she 
immediately recognized as belonging to the head-for- 
ester. 

Without considering what might follow, she rose impul- 
sively from her kneeling posture, and a second later was 
by Reinach’s side. 

“You have no right to complain, Baron Rhoden,” she 
said, standing with flashing eyes in front of the startled 
men. “ If I had been able to kill the dog, I should have 
done it without hesitation. You have yourself to thank 
for having lost him.” 

The Baron, who was in his riding suit, and who must 
have sprung from his horse at the sound of the shot, 
stared at the speaker without answering a word. His 
excitement had been too great to permit him to recover 
his wonted polite demeanor at once. 

“Before such an opponent I must for the moment lay 
down my arms,” he said at last, with a slight bow to 
Marguerite. “ And we can find another opportunity, 
Herr Forester, to settle our difficulty. I hope that the 
heroism which induced you to shoot a dog in ambush, 
is not the extent of your personal bravery.” 

“ If you say that with the object of provoking a duel, I 
will declare to you at once that I never consider the carry- 
ing out of my official duties a matter for which I must 
account to an offender. I represent here the authority 
of the law, and I would but cast opprobrium upon it, if, 
after the manner of the middle ages, I gave satisfaction 
to the first comer who demanded it, as an apology for 
having done my duty !” 

While speaking, he had leaned upon his fowling-piece 
and looked the Baron steadily in the face. Marguerite 
watched him with admiring wonder, and felt how supe- 
rior he was in his earnest, self-conscious manhood, to the 
man who stood opposite him. Rhoden’s deep, unbridled 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


275 


fury received a fresh lash from the cool, measured 
reproof. A wild, excited fire glowed in his eyes, and the 
muscles of his body were twitched and contorted like a 
tiger’s ready to spring on its prey. Yet he answered 
nothing, and Reinach, with a slight, contemptuous 
motion, shouldered his gun and turned away. The Baron 
had evidently waited for this moment. Seizing his rid- 
ing whip by the end, he raised his right arm to rush 
after the retreating man and give him a blow with its 
heavy silver handle. The forester was not .expecting an 
attack from behind, and would have undoubtedly lost 
hold of his weapon and perhaps been felled to the ground 
by the blow, had not Marguerite averted the threatened 
danger. She had seen the Baron’s dastardly motion, 
and had recognized its object. Regardless of her rela- 
tions toward Rhoden, and without thought of any possi- 
ble consequence, she threw herself with raised arm 
between the two men, and with an expression of the 
deepest contempt, called to Rhoden : “ What you are 

doing is pusillanimous and cowardly !” 

Only a fraction of a second had passed, and here she 
was shielding a stranger from the man whom within the 
last few hours she had taught herself to look upon as 
her future husband. 

The forester had turned round at the sound of Mar- 
guerite’s voice ; he pushed his defender gently aside, 
and before she could realize what had happened, had the 
Baron by the throat and had forced him to the ground. 

“On your knees, you cowardly knave !” he thundered, 
while the angry blood colored his face. “You may 
thank this lady for it that I don’t thrash you with your 
own riding whip. But have a care if you ever cross my 
path again.’’ 

He loosed his hold and stepped back a few paces. 
The Baron’s face as he rose was deadly white, and his 


276 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


features were distorted. He did not, however, attempt 
to avenge on the spot the insult which he had received. 
Reinach could bring his gun into play with a single 
move, and Rhoden saw that the man’s physical strength 
was superior to his own even without the advantage of 
the weapon. Not glancing towards his enemy, he went 
to the place where the body of his dog lay. He bent 
over it, and when he saw that the last breath had left its 
body, he kicked the carcass away with his foot. 

Then picking up his whip he turned in the direction 
where he had left his horse, and he was yet within hear- 
ing of the two others when he laughed aloud, and said, 
spitefully : “And I had really had it in my mind to 
make a game-keeper’s sweetheart my Baroness.” 

Reinach started forward as if to hasten after him, but 
a little hand was laid firmly on his arm to detain him. 
Marguerite spoke no word, but she gave him a beseech- 
ing glance which he could not withstand, so he let the 
insulting speech pass unnoticed. But he took the little 
hand and raised it reverently to his lips. 

“ I had never dreamed that I should ever find it neces- 
sary to thank a lady for such a service,” he said. “ But 
I will never forgive myself, my dear Fraulein, for hav- 
ing placed you, even unconsciously, in so painful a posi- 
tion.” 

And now the knowledge of what she had done, and the 
inevitable consequences, came over her with full force. 
All thought of an engagement with Rhoden was at an 
end, and it was more than probable that, under the cir- 
cumstances, he would leave Buchwald at once. The 
feeling that was uppermost in her heart at this moment 
was one of indescribable relief and joy. It seemed as if 
a friendly hand had lifted a fearful burden from her 
shoulders, and by a happy accident she had been rescued 
from a terrible fate. She was in no condition to hide 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


277 


her joyous feelings from Reinach. A sunny smile played 
about her lips, and her eyes sparkled as she turned to 
him to reply to his last words. 

“ Oh, no. I should say, rather, that you have freed me 
from a painful position. Why should I deny what you 
must already know from Baron Rhoden’s parting greet- 
ing. Now, he’ll certainly never think again of making 
me his wife.” 

This communication, to which the head-forester should 
have been altogether indifferent, changed the whole face 
of nature for him that minute. 

“And does this not trouble you ?” he asked. “Does 
not the thought bring you sorrow ?” 

Their glances met. There was an expectant, half- 
fearful, questioning look in his eyes, and a charming, 
roguish expression in hers. 

“No, that thought brings me no sorrow, not the 
slightest,” she said, proudly. “ I know nothing at this 
moment which could have happened, pleasanter or more 
opportune. But, of course, you have no interest in all this, 
and we can find something better to talk about. Do you 
see that poor little roe ? I believe it has broken its leg.” 

She kneeled again by the tender, brown-eyed creature, 
and stroked its soft skin caressingly, while Reinach 
examined the injured limb. 

“ It is not broken,” he said at last, “ and my old 
Frederick, who is an excellent hand at such things, will 
bring it all right in a day or two.” 

It was only by accident that he had taken her hand to 
assist her to rise, but it was something worthy of note 
that he still held it as they went on side by side, until 
they reached his forest home. 

And again the girl’s heart beat high as she ascended 
the wooden steps ; not this time with timidity or fear, 
but with great, unspeakable, incomprehensible happiness. 


278 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


CHAPTER XX. 

Although, in consequence of the absence of the mas- 
ter, a quantity of business had accumulated which 
required Hardenegg’s personal attention, he could not 
bring himself to sit at his desk fifteen minutes at a 
time. There were so many things which must be 
decided in the near future — the Baron’s wooing, and if 
it was successful, the consequent ease of mind which 
relief from his monetary troubles would bring ; the 
accusation and proof against Elfriede ; and his growing 
passion for the beautiful Hertha von Bassewitz, which 
he could not conceal from himself — all these, and the 
feeling that he must finally conquer, and then be able 
to throw aside all care, occupied his every thought. He 
wanted some distraction to free himself from them, and 
as he hadn’t seen Rhoden all morning, he ordered his 
fleetest horse to be saddled. A mad desire had come 
over him, a desire whose gratification he at first con- 
sidered impracticable, but which gave him no peace. 

He knew that Count Bassewitz had arrived at Lan- 
kenau, and that his daughter had accompanied him. 
Under ordinary circumstances it would scarcely have 
seemed strange for an acquaintance on an adjoining 
estate to pay a visit of courtesy. But in this case there 
were other ' things to be considered. Count Bassewitz 
had broken off all intercourse between the two families 
at the time Hardenegg’s engagement to the historical 
painter’s daughter was announced. Notwithstanding 
his friendly greeting on the day of the races, it was more 
than possible that the Count would have no desire to 
return to the old friendly footing. Then again, it was 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


279 


highly probable that Hardenegg’s visit would not be 
returned at all, and might even be regarded as an impu- 
dent intrusion. 

He thought of all this, but it was not strong enough 
to dissuade him from his purpose. After all, they were 
in the country, and there was no need to be as careful 
about etiquette as if they were in town. The master of 
Buchwald took a long ride before he arrived in the 
neighborhood of the Great House at Lankenau, and the 
necessity for rest and refreshment would, he thought, 
be a sufficient excuse for a short visit, and give him a 
chance to judge of the footing upon which he stood. 

After arriving at this determination, Hardenegg 
turned his horse into a narrow path which ran through 
the woods immediately surrounding the Count’s estate. 
Coming to an opening in the wood, his interest was 
suddenly aroused, and his attention fixed. 

Diagonally across the green meadow which lay before 
him, he saw a youthful couple sauntering arm-in-arm. 
Their heads were suspiciously close together, and it 
needed no keen eye to discover that they were revelers 
in love’s young dream. These young lovers would have 
elicited only a passing glance and smile from Harden- 
egg under other circumstances, but now his pulse beat 
fast and high ; for the young girl who at this very 
moment was looking tenderly into her lover’s face, 
closely resembled, in figure, bearing, motion, even in 
her very profile, the Countess Hertha von Bassewitz, 
and Hardenegg could almost have sworn it was she, had 
he not been convinced that such a thing was impossible. 
It would, indeed, be a matter of open laughter, if the 
aristocratic and proud Count s daughter were seen 
wandering here beneath the blue heavens, under the 
very eyes of plowmen and shepherds’ lads, with any 
young man, and she would — but see, she is surely let- 


280 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


ting him kiss her. The two had certainly kissed one 
another, of that there was no doubt, and in spite of his 
conviction that he had never seen them before, this mark 
of affection touched Hardenegg like a dagger-thrust. 
Standing upright in his saddle, he bent forward in order 
to secure a better view, and now — no, truly there was 
no longer any possible doubt ; the lady had turned her 
face full toward him, and now he knew that it was no 
counterpart of the Countess upon which he gazed, but 
the Countess Hertha von Bassewitz in her own person. 
She had either not recognized the rider, or, in her happy 
self-forgetfulness, had not seen him at all. But, as if to 
show her scorn of the passion which tortured the Baron, 
she laid her head trustfully on the shoulder of her com- 
panion, who threw his arm round her slender waist and 
drew her tenderly to himself. Hardenegg drove the 
spurs into his horse’s flanks, and started off at a furious 
pace. He was in no condition to bear the sight of this 
picture longer. 

No other disillusion which he could have experienced, 
would have affected him so sensibly. Hertha von 
Bassewitz had been the prominent figure in all his pro- 
jects for the future ; and his hatred for the unknown, 
fortunate wooer, was all the more intense, because he 
recognized that he could not make the slightest attempt, 
in his present condition, to thwart this stranger’s wishes 
or plans. 

But should he now go on to Lankenau ? The ardent 
desire to see Hertha again had been the ground of his 
rash determination. Well, he had seen her, and he had 
no wish to be a further witness to this idyllic love scene. 
He had turned his horse’s head into a side-path leading 
in an opposite direction, when a new idea suggested 
itself to him in his angry agitation. He turned his 
horse suddenly to the left and rode off at a brisk canter 


the breach of custom. 


281 


in the direction of Lankenau. A conjecture, which had 
for a moment seemed improbable, was now gaining 
ground in his thoughts. Who knew but what this was 
some secret, youthful passion of which the Count had 
no knowledge ! 

It had not been the custom of the Baron von Harden- 
egg to yield quietly to another in a love affair ; but this 
time— so he assured himself— it might be his knightly 
duty to protect the Countess from any farther 
imprudence. 

Count Bassewitz’s face bespoke surprise as he saw 
Hardenegg dismount from his steaming horse. But he 
was too much a man of the world to betray it to his 
unlooked-for guest. Hardenegg declared, with an unaf- 
fected laugh, that he had been riding for hours, and 
relying upon the well-known hospitality of Lankenau, 
had drawn up to crave a drink. The Count greeted him 
courteously, and soon the two men were seated at a 
table with a bottle of sparkling wine between them. 

They conversed upon many different topics of the 
day, and Hardenegg waited patiently until an oppor- 
tune moment arrived for the mention of his host’s 
daughter. At last he asked a careless question regard- 
ing her well-being. But before the Count had time to 
answer it, he continued, laughing : “That’s a needless 
question, however, for, from the glimpse which I had of 
the Countess half an hour ago, she seemed in excellent 
health, and perhaps it was my duty to empty my first 
glass of this most excellent wine to the impending 
happy event.” 

Bassewitz gave the speaker an earnest, questioning 
look. 

“You must permit me to say, my dear Hardenegg, 
that I do not understand you.” 

The Baron made a slight bow, 


282 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ Pardon me. I should not have been so indiscreet. 
Since it is a secret, I can assure you, no word of mine 
will betray it.” 

“ But I really do not understand you, my dear 
neighbor. I know absolutely nothing about any joyful 
event which is hanging over our house. Will you be 
good enough to explain to me what it is, about which 
you are proffering absolute silence ?” 

Hardenegg affected a hesitancy about relieving the 
Count’s suspense. Finally he said : “ I must say I feel 
that I deserve a sharp reproof for being so long- 
tongued. I was nearly spoiling a great surprise which 
the Countess is evidently preparing for you, so I can 
only beg you to forget my incautious utterance.” 

“ Notwithstanding all that, you will earn my sincere 
thanks if you will explain clearly what it is to which you 
refer. Does this happy event of which you speak, affect 
my daughter in any way ?” 

“ It does, indeed ! But I greatly fear I will lose her 
favor if I tell tales out of school.” 

“ Never mind about that, until it comes. I promise 
you I will make your peace with her. Doubtless, I 
know all about it, already.” 

“ That is more than probable ; for I cannot believe 
that Countess Hertha would otherwise have selected, 
as the scene of her first, innocent love-making, a treeless 
meadow, which of course, was open to other eyes than 
mine.” 

Count Bassewitz pushed his chair back a little. His 
face had grown very earnest, and his voice had a harsh } 
almost impolite tone as he answered : “You are not 
quite happy in your jests to-day, Herr von Hardenegg.” 

The Baron felt a satisfaction,. which, for the moment 
at least, was stronger than the shame which his wretched 
role must necessarily have engendered. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


283 


“ Then it is a surprise ?” he said reluctantly. “ You 
mustn’t forget, Count, you have promised to be my 
mediator.” 

Bassewitz nearly lost his patience at this. “ What the 
deuce — Can you not see, Herr Baron, that I am not as 
gaily inclined as yourself? Up to this moment lean 
understand nothing but that you, with enviable cold 
bloodedness, are keeping me in suspense regarding 
something unprecedented.” 

The Count’s sudden change of tone made it necessary 
for Hardenegg to assume a serious bearing. 

“ I can only repeat my regret that in all innocence I 
stumbled on a subject which seems painful to you. If 
you think that what I saw I really regard as unpre- 
cedented, pray don’t hold me accountable for it, for I 
never said so.” 

“ But in Heaven's name, what was it you really did 
see ? My daughter has gone riding in her brougham, 
accompanied by a groom, just as she has done every day 
since our arrival. What can have happened, then?” 

“ I saw neither the groom, Herr Baron, nor the car- 
riage. I only saw your daughter walking arm in arm 
with a black-haired young man to whom she accorded, 
without resistance, the enviable privilege of kissing her 
in the open field.” 

The scarcely concealed delight with which the Baron 
broughc out his news, after all his parleying, did not 
escape the Count, who made a pretty correct conjecture 
as to the true motives which actuated his guest’s revela- 
tion. Instead of falling, as Hardenegg had expected, 
into a violent passion and rushing out at once to investi- 
gate this scandalous occurrence, he was strangely calm, 
and the manner of his reply was by no means flattering 
to his visitor. 

“You had, without doubt, intended to do me a kind- 


284 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


ness, Herr von Hardenegg, by informing me of the 
observations which you believe yourself to have made, 
and in so doing you would have placed me under last- 
ing obligations, were I not unalterably convinced ” — and 
he laid an emphasis on these words which could not be 
misunderstood — “ that you have been the victim of a 
singular optical delusion. The lady whom you saw 
with the black-haired young man was not my daughter, 
could not have been my daughter, and I trust that by 
this positive assurance all your amiable conjectures in 
relation to the approaching joyful event in my house- 
hold, will receive a final and complete refutation.” 

The Count rose formally as he finished speaking, and 
Hardenegg was, of course, obliged to follow his exam- 
ple. 

His host’s contemptuous tone had irritated him to the 
utmost, but he felt he would only lose ground by any 
betrayal of his feelings. 

“You are altogether right, my dear Count,” he said 
coolly. “ I will, from now on, believe that I have been 
the victim of an optical delusion. Your words have so 
entirely convinced me.” 

A minute or two later he was again in the saddle, and 
never had his faithful, swift-footed horse received such 
brutal treatment as on that homeward ride of Baron 
von Hardenegg from his first and last visit to Lankenau. 

Not long after his departure, Countess Hertha’s light 
carriage rolled up to the entrance-door, and the young 
girl sprang gracefully from it. Her beautiful face was 
bright and beaming, and she hummed a snatch of a gay 
melody as she hurried to her father’s study. On the 
threshold she held out her arms, laughing, for she was 
accustomed upon her return, from no matter how short 
a journey, to receive a tender greeting from him. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


285 


To-day, much to her astonishment, her welcome was of 
quite another kind. 

With earnest, almost frowning face, her father went 
to meet hei. After he had closed the door behind her, 
he took her hand and led her into the middle of the 
room. 

“ Where were you riding, Hertha ?” he asked severely. 

Astonished, yet with a shy glance, she looked up at him. 

“ Through the Buchwald Valley, dear father J Was 
that a crime ?” 

“And did you leave your carriage ?” 

“ Yes ; but why in the world this cross-examination ? 
Certainly I left it.” 

“ I trust you are not striving to deceive me. An 
accusation has been made against you, whose authen- 
ticity is at this moment doubtful, for I could not imagine 
that my child would be guilty of a dishonorable action.” 

“And you are quite right, father !” cried the girl, with 
blazing eyes. “ I hope you will always maintain that it 
is impossible for me to forget my honor. But I see that 
my accuser has calumniated me, and that I dare not be 
longer silent, no matter how hard it will be for me to 
break a solemn promise. Come, dear father, sit down 
in this chair, and I will kneel at your feet as I do when 
you tell me of your army adventures. To-day it is my 
turn to tell of my adventure — and blood was spilled then, 
too, even if it was only the blood of an ox.” 

Half against his will, and with his~feeble remonstrance 
unheeded, the Count listened to his daughter’s simple 
account of her love-affair. Her lovely, glowing face, 
and the happy confidence which lit her eyes, made it an 
impossibility for him to interrupt her angrily, even if 
her confession had been more appalling than it really 
was. That it was appalling, she could well see from the 
expression of his countenance. 


286 


THE BBEACH OF CUSTOM. 


“My poor, foolish child,” he said, as she finished, 
“how much suffering you have prepared for us both. 
You don’t seem to be conscious that this can be only a 
dream, — the passing fancy of a summer day. Even if 
I could overlook this artist’s youth, the shortness of your 
acquaintance, and the romantic circumstances which 
were doubtless the mainspring of your attachment for 
one another, I should yet have to decide most positively 
against this alliance. We not only have obligations 
toward ourselves, but towards those in our own rank of 
life, and towards our ancestors, and I know, from my own 
experience, that the fulfilment of these obligations is 
sometimes very hard.” 

“ No, father, you are not in earnest. You cannot wish 
me to be unhappy, just for the sake of strangers, or for 
our dead ancestors ! Only we two, you and I, have any 
right to decide about my future fate, and I know that 
you love me too well to oppose me so cruelly.” 

Though she petted and begged and flattered him alter- 
nately, she could not move him by a word from the 
stand which he had taken. It was evident that it was 
no easy matter for him to destroy all his daughter’s love 
dreams, but he listened to and obeyed a force which was 
far stronger than the sway of his own feelings. His kind 
and affectionate manner made it impossible for? her to 
contend against his mildly-given refusal, but she was far 
from believing her case hopeless, notwithstanding. 

“ And will you also forbid me seeing Ewald again ?” 
she asked. “ Do you expect that everything shall be 
over between us from this day on ?” 

“And is not that the best for us all, Hertha? Future 
meetings behind my back would, under existing circum- 
stances, bring you little joy, and I should suffer greatly 
if I were obliged to adopt stringent measures towards 
you.” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


287 


“ But what you desire is impossible ! I must see Ewald 
once again, and you must give him the opportunity to 
speak openly to you. Who knows but what he may suc- 
ceed in conquering your preconceived opinion !” 

Count Bassewitz looked thoughtfully before him fora 
moment, then said with affectionate earnestness : “Very 
well, my child. Your wish has a certain warrant. In 
order that there may be no repetition of to-day’s occur- 
rence, I will write Herr Ewald a note, requesting him to 
come to me to-morrow, and that will give you an oppor- 
tunity for a last meeting under my own eyes. I hope 
you will be my good and clear-sighted little daughter, 
as you always have been, and ask for no further conces- 
sion.” 

Hertha threw her arms around his neck and kissed 
him tenderly. But she made him no promises, and when 
she went to her chamber, her face had by no means the 
look of a deeply unhappy creature for whom existence 
had no alluring hopes. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

It was already dark when Hardenegg again entered 
Castle Buchwald. His temper was the worst in the 
world. Count Bassewitz’ last words still echoed in his 
ears ; he had brought this humiliation upon himself 
unnecessarily, and without profit; that was the worst 
thought of all. 

“ Has Baron Rhoden got back yet ?” he asked, as he 
drew his gloves off hastily. The servant did not reply at 
once, and his master turned on him angrily : “ Don’t you 

understand what I say ? Is the Baron in the Castle ?” 


288 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ No, sir. But the carriage came back empty, from 
the railway station, half an hour ago.” 

“ The carriage — from the railway station ! What do 
you mean ? What did the carriage go to the railway 
station for ? And what has that to do with the Baron ?” 

“ Everything, sir. The Baron took the evening train 
for town, and his luggage is to follow in the morning.” 

Hardenegg trembled violently, and it was a minute 
before he could question the man further. 

“ And do you know what caused this sudden journey ?” 
he asked, trying to speak coolly. “ Has the Baron left 
any message for me ?” 

“ I do not know, sir. But his man, Franz, is still here 
to look after his luggage. Perhaps some message was 
left with him.” 

“ Bring him to me at once — do you hear, at once ! 
Something very important must have occurred.” 

A few minutes later, Franz, hastily summoned by the 
old servant, stood in the doorway. 

“ His master regretted that he could not wait to take 
a personal leave of the Baron,” the man announced, 
“ but he gave me orders to place this letter in your 
-own hands.” He said these last words in a significant 
tone, as if he knew its contents. 

Hardenegg said nothing further, and motioned to 
the young man to leave him. He threw himself on a 
couch before opening this letter, for he felt that some- 
thing to be dreaded was coming. But his worst fears 
were more than realized when he had mastered its con- 
tents. 

“ My Dear Hardenegg : You must seek from your 
fair sister-in-law the reason for my sudden departure ; 

I will confine myself to the simple statement that it was 
unavoidable. My suit for the hand of Fraulein Stiller 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


289 


is withdrawn, and our business relations, which were con- 
tingent upon its success, are at an end. You will there- 
fore make your arrangements accordingly, for, in spite of 
my sincere friendship for you, I shall not be in a position, 
for reasons which you can understand, to grant you any 
further indulgence. 

With warmest thanks for your hospitality. 

Hartmuth von Rhoden.” 

So the game was lost, shamefully lost, through a 
woman's whim, for the Baron was convinced that it was 
his own wife who had, in spite of his unequivocal hints 
as to the consequences, persuaded her sister, in cold 
blood, to do this thing. 

A wild, furious, deadly hatred towards Elfriede and 
towards her sister, took possession of him, and for the 
moment banished all other thoughts. He struck his bell 
excitedly, and when the servant answered it, he shouted : 

“ Tell my wife that I wish to speak with her ! Hurry 
up ; why do you stand staring at me, you imbecile !” 

“ I beg your pardon, sir ; but my lady — ” 

“Well ! What about her?” 

He did not attempt to hide from his servant by man- 
ner or voice the contempt in which he held the bearer 
of his name. No humiliation which he could have 
brought upon her would have seemed to him deep or 
shameful enough for the wrong she had this day 
committed against him. 

“ My lady left the Castle half an hour ago,” responded 
the servant, drawing back as he spoke as far as possible 
from his master, whose dark, sinister looking face made 
him indeed look dangerous. 

“Ah ! And Fraulein Stiller?” 

“None of the family are at home, except my lady, 
your mother.” 


290 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


With the impotent fury of a wild animal in the snare, 
Hardenegg strode up and down the room. 

“Excellent!” he murmured to himself. “Excellent!” 
Then a sudden idea suggesting itself to him, he turned 
to the servant : “ Perhaps you know where your mistress 
has gone? The people in this house seem to know 
everything that is going on.” 

“The Baroness took the way toward Frauensee, so far 
as I could see.” 

“And who was with her?” 

“ No one, sir.” 

“That’s all right. You can go.” 

The servant did not hesitate to obey this command 
with all speed, for his master’s face was becoming 
darker and more passionate every moment. 

Hardenegg went to his writing-table and opened a 
secret drawer, from which he took a glistening revolver. 
He examined it carefully and saw that it was loaded, 
but before he had left the table, another thought came 
to him, and he threw it back with a contemptuous motion 
into its old place. 

“ I think what I have to do can be done without the 
assistance of that weapon !” he said grimly, as he took 
up his riding whip. “Our accounts will be no less 
entirely settled.” 

A couple of curious, spying domestics saw him start, 
a moment later, in the same direction which his wife 
had taken an hour or so before. 

* ***** * 

The poor, wretched hovel of the day-laborer, Karstan, 
lay at a good distance from the village of Frauensee. 
The villagers troubled themselves little about the 
inmates of the tumble-down little dwelling, for Karstan 
had a bad name. 


THE BREACH OP CUSTOM. 


291 


He had been punished repeatedly as an incorrigible 
thief, and not without reason did the people avoid him, 
for he was a hard drinker, and a man of a rough, quar- 
relsome disposition. For these reasons it is not to be 
wondered at that he found it impossible to get regular 
employment, and was glad to do such trifling jobs as 
came in his way. 

And it was this poor, miserable habitation which Pas- 
tor Werner and the young Baroness von Hardenegg 
had, according to the watchful maid’s account, selected 
for their place of rendezvous. They had, in truth, met 
there every day for a week past, and there they were on 
this eventful evening, seated in the low, badly-lighted, 
dirty room, opposite one another. It did not seem to be 
exactly the place in which to enact a tender love scene. 
One could scarcely imagine a more depressing or deso- 
late looking room than this. Both Werner and the 
Baroness had striven to do what they could to improve 
its appearance and bring a little comfort to its occu- 
pants, but the clergyman’s means were slight, and the 
Baroness' resources were even less, and the poor vil- 
lagers, even had they been so disposed, had hard enough 
work to make both ends meet, without alms-giving. 
Elfriede had been able to relieve the poor people a little, 
however, and had succeeded to some extent in bringing 
order out of chaos. 

The day-laborer crouched in a half-dark corner upon 
a small stool, and stared stupidly and indifferently 
before him at the little broken table. What happened 
around him, did not seem to trouble him at all. He 
had merely nodded vacantly when Werner told him that 
he had secured several weeks’ steady work for him with 
farmer Hulmdorf, and when Elfriede entered, he mum- 
bled a few inarticulate words, which she could take for 
a greeting or not as she chose. 


292 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


The two visitors had gone immediately, one to each 
side of a wretched bed, at the foot of which stood the 
pale, hollow-cheeked wife of the day-laborer. It was a 
brave, honest woman, against whom no one had a word 
to say, who had united her fate with that of this incor- 
rigible scamp. She had been a sufferer for years from 
a hopeless disease, and now the time had come when 
she could no longer do even the lightest work without 
pain, but must wait patiently for that day, now close at 
hand, when all sorrow and suffering should end for her. 
On the old bed lay a ten-year-old child, whose beautiful 
face, pressed against the pillow, reminded one of a head 
of Durer’s — it was a countenance so full of innocence 
and purity. The long, golden hair fell in two thick 
braids upon the bed-cover; the thin hands, one of which 
Elfriede had taken, and the emaciated, white cheeks, 
told of long days and nights of suffering through which 
the tender, frail creature had passed. 

The child had sunk into a painless dose ; the eyelids 
were closed and cast their long shadows on the pale 
cheeks, and from time to time a weak, half-dreamy smile 
played around her lips. 

“Yes, my lady/' said the wife, clasping her hands, 
“ this has been the first happy day for me in a long 
time. When the doctor came this morning and Maria 
looked up at him, his face showed that he was well 
satisfied, and after he had examined her, he slapped me 
on the shoulder, and said : ‘Ah, we are very fortunate 
to day, for she has turned the sharp corner. With care- 
ful attention and nursing, we will have her again as 
well as a fish in water.’ Ah, gracious lady, I have had 
many sorrows and trials in my life, and I always thought 
there were no tears left for me to shed, but when I 
heard him say that, I cried for joy as I should not have 
been able to do for grief if she had died.” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


293 


“ I have noticed how devoted you were to your dear 
child,” answered Elfriede, kindly, “and this verdict 
from the doctor is very good news to me, also ; but I 
hope, dear Frau Karsten, that when Maria’s health is 
fully restored, you will no longer refuse me your con- 
sent to place her somewhere under the protection of 
good people.” 

The sick woman put her hand over her eyes, and her 
breath came with a gasp, as if something in her throat 
was choking her. After a short silence she said : “ No, 
no, I will no longer object, for perhaps she would not 
have fallen ill at all had she been raised like other chil- 
dren. It is certainly very hard for me that I cannot 
detain her, for I know I shall not live without her. 
But you can’t understand how it is when one has to 
be separated from the only beautiful and good thing 
that one possesses in the world. It will go hard with 
me, but I see that it must be, and I shall submit as best 
I can.” 

“Calm yourself, good Frau,” said Werner, in that 
gentle and heart-winning tone which the poor and 
unhappy of his little flock were ever glad to hear. 
“ Though your little daughter, owing to the doctor’s 
positive command, must not remain in this unhealthy 
house any longer, that is no reason why you should be 
entirely separated from her. I have been speaking to 
my housekeeper about Maria, and find that she will 
gladly take your little one into the parsonage, if you and 
your husband consent. So long as I am able, I shall 
look after her bodily and spiritual welfare, and as long 
as she is with me, my good Frau Karsten, you can visit 
her at any time you choose.” 

With a glad look on her face, Elfriede reached her 
hand across the little bed to him. The poor mother 


294 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


could not for a moment find words in which to express 
her overflowing thanks. 

“ This last is truly the best thing you could do for us, 
Herr Pastor," she said,- in the harsh and direct manner, 
of people in her station. “ If it had not been for you 
and this good lady, both Maria and I would have been 
in the church-yard long ago, and I hardly dare think 
what would have become of my husband. And when 
will you take the child ? Ah, if the Herr Pastor were 
only the Baron, or the gracious Baroness the pastor’s 
wife, it would be well for all the poor people in this 
neighborhood !” 

Elfriede rose hurriedly at this moment, perhaps to 
hide from the clergyman her deeply glowing counte- 
nance. Perhaps also to prevent the grateful woman 
from continuing in the same vein. 

“ I cannot remain with you any longer this evening, 
Frau Karsten,” she said, “and our talking would arouse 
the little one. Early in the morning I will send you, as 
usual, something nourishing for her.” 

In company with Werner, who rose without speaking, 
she left the little house, while its wretched mistress 
stood at the door watching them as they went down the 
narrow path leading to the country road. 

“ It’s a pity for them both !” she said, shaking her 
head, as she went back to her child. 

Elfriede turned and spoke to Werner as soon, as they 
had gone a few steps. “ I cannot thank you enough for 
looking out for that poor little girl’s future. She has 
lain like a heavy burden on my heart for some time, and 
I greatly fear that my husband will soon forbid my 
visiting the poor people. I notice now that my every 
step is watched.” 

“ Why are you watched ? Surely there is no wrong in 
what you are doing !” 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


295 


11 It may seem wrong in the eyes of the dowager 
Baroness von Hardenegg. You know what her views 
are regarding the poor of this region, and even though 
she sympathized with them, she would lose no oppor- 
tunity to place obstacles in my path. I can no longer 
doubt that she hates me from the bottom of her heart, 
and that she will spare no pains to injure me whenever 
a possibility offers. I do not know what she is planning 
against my future. Ah, John, I fear it was not only a 
fatal error, but a great wrong which I committed four 
years ago, when I consented to this marriage !” 

These words sounded to him like a despairing cry 
wrung from a tortured heart, and to-day he had not the 
courage to forbid the iniquity, if it were iniquity, of such 
complainings. 

“You did it for your father’s and your sister’s sake, 
Elfriede,” he said, gently. “ Your intentions were good, 
even though the consequences of your decision have 
proved that you were in error.” 

“ No, no, no ! It is useless to strive to extenuate what 
never, even with the best objects in view, can be 
extenuated. It is a lie which is revenging itself on me ; 
for it was surely with a lie on my lips that I went to the 
altar with a man whom I did not love. A marriage 
which signifies only a fulfilment of duty is no marriage. 
I can say with a clear conscience that I have never 
neglected my duty, and yet I have always felt guilty 
that I could not give my husband what he had a right 
to claim— my love. I do not mean to reprove you, for 
no one could be more fully convinced of the purity of 
your motives than I. But I am, perhaps, the only being 
who has ever bitterly rued following your advice.” 

A startled look crossed his face. “ My advice, 
Elfriede ? Why, it was your own decision which you 
followed.” 


296 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


“ No ; but I will tell you now, for we both know our 
hearts are pure, and another opportunity may never 
again offer to speak of these sad things. I was not so 
magnanimous and unselfish as you believe. Even the 
imaginary paradise which was to be mine for the taking, 
and my father’s childlike joy, would not have decided 
me to destroy forever any dream of future happiness 
which I might possess. I had already decided to turn 
to you for aid — in another quarter of an hour my whole 
future would have been in your hands, when — just at 
the last moment — your letter came, showing that you 
scorned me, and that you took it for granted that my 
love for my father would make me accept this offer. 
What was there for me to do after that ? I had been 
accustomed to look upon you as the embodiment of all 
that was just and honorable, and when you advised me 
— tacitly, I must admit — to do my duty by my father — I 
felt, for I only had an hour or so in which to decide, 
that there was nothing for me to do but to yield. Now 
you know the little which there is to tell concerning 
my marriage.” 

She had stood still while telling her little story, and 
she would perhaps not have ended it, had she looked 
but once into the clergyman’s face. He was evidently 
agitated to his heart’s centre, for these pitiless words 
threatened to destroy the peace of his conscience, which 
had always given him strength to bear his sufferings 
calmly, and to withstand all temptations. With terror* 
now that the veil was torn from his eyes, he recognized 
the false conception of duty which, while urging him to 
cast from him all hopes of happiness for himself, had 
also led him to draw into the maelstrom this confiding 
creature who was dearer to him than all else on earth. 
It seemed as if the ground which he had always con- 
sidered so secure, had suddenly given way under his 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


297 


feet, and a heavy burden, for which he was answerable, 
was cast upon his shoulders. 

He would have answered Elfriede, but for the moment 
could find no words to express his sorrow and self- 
reproach. Then, when he was about to open his lips, an 
incident occurred for which neither of them were pre- 
pared. 

Out from the darkness of the bushes which bordered 
the path, stepped a tall, manly form. With a low cry 
Elfriede recognized her husband, whose angry mien and 
dark, red face told her that this meeting was no acci- 
dent. With a few quick steps he was beside her, and 
placed himself directly in front of the clergyman, say- 
ing with a loud, contemptuous laugh : “ Good evening, 
confiding souls ! I beg your forgiveness for interrupt- 
ing so abruptly this tender interchange of confidences.” 

Werner was as confused as if he had really been 
entrapped in some wrong-doing. His only thought was 
that the Baron was angry because his wife had been 
visiting the poor and needy. Elfriede knew, however, 
that this brutal attack must be ascribed to some deeper 
cause, and the pride of her insulted womanhood lent 
her strength. 

“ You are quite right in apologizing for your sudden 
appearance,” she answered sternly, meeting his furious 
glance fearlessly. “ I am as little inclined to submit to 
a vile espionage, as longer to endure such shameful 
treatment.” 

“ Silence, you despicable woman !” thundered the 
Baron in a shrill, far-sounding voice. “ Is it because 
you are so near your lover that you dare to meet me 
thus ? Let us see if he has the courage to play your 
protector. You will follow me at once in order to 
receive the punishment which I shall mete out to you.” 

And with his left hand he seized her arm with such 


298 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


violence as drew from her a cry of pain. Werner started 
forward quickly; but his help would have been of little 
avail to the threatened woman, had not strong and unex- 
pected succor come to her at this moment. 

Two slender arms, whose muscles and sinews appeared 
to be of steel, released her instantly from Hardenegg’s 
grasp, and before the enraged husband could see who 
his assailant was, he was thrown several feet from where 
he had been standing. 

“ Ewald ! My brother Ewald !” cried Elfriede in 
great surprise, and the youth replied with an excited 
glance : 

“Yes, your brother Ewald, who truly has arrived just 
in time to put a stop to this damnable coward’s assaults. 
If you attempt to touch her — by the eternal God, I’ll 
nail you to the earth with this knife !” 

The dangerous, metallic sparkle of the object which 
he saw in Ewald’s hand may have restored Hardenegg 
to a quieter frame of mind. Perhaps he thought of a 
certain night years before, when Ewald, then only a 
boy, had given no slight proof of his manly courage, or 
perhaps he wished to take a more deadly revenge against 
this new enemy in whom he recognized Hertha von 
Bassewitz’ companion of the morning, than was possible 
at this time and place. 

“ A worthy set, indeed !” he said, mockingly. “ I must 
really be forgiven for declining to consort with such a 
rabble any longer. For the last time, Elfriede, I give 
you the choice of accompanying me from this spot, or of 
never crossing the threshold of my house again. There 
is no place under the roof of a Hardenegg for — ” 

He did not complete the insulting sentence. He had 
not heard a step behind him, and now, as he raised his 
head, he thought he saw a ghost, for Kostomarow was 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


299 


close to him, and he almost believed that the old man 
had come down before him in the evening mist. 

“ Go on, Herr von Hardenegg ! Why does the conclu- 
sion of that charming speech stick in your throat ? Per- 
haps you will allow me to finish it ? And mark you well 
what 1 shall say : ‘ There will no longer be a place under 

the roof of Buchwald for cheats and thieves, for gamblers 
and libertines. The reign of knavery is at an end ! So 
pack your trunk, Kurt von Hardenegg, and look well to it, 
young man, that you take not a pfennig’s worth which 
does not belong to you.’ ” 

He stood so near to the Baron, and was so defenceless, 
that it would have been an easy matter for the other to 
have felled him to the ground with one blow. But Har- 
denegg never thought of raising his hand against the old 
man. He pressed his clenched fist against his breast, his 
breath came thick and heavy, and great beads of perspira- 
tion stood out upon his forehead. 

“ You are a senseless liar !” he said, in a thick, agitated 
voice. 

Kostomarow seemed to be pleased with this appella- 
tion. 

“ Before another sun has gone to rest, I shall prove to 
you that I am neither senseless nor a liar,” he said, in a 
deep, significant tone. “ It had been well for you if the 
Baron Botho von Hardenegg had disappeared forever 
from view on the snow-covered wastes of Siberia, instead 
of his Russian friend, Kostomarow, and it is well for me 
I have indisputable witnesses to prove my right to 
the name of Hardenegg and to the inheritance of my 
father. My brother evidently thought I was dead, and 
as I had no care for my possessions, I let him believe 
he was owner of them all, for, although he was 
frivolous and inconsiderate, he was no knave. The 
nephew has exhausted the full measure of my patience. 


300 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


He is not only a thief from necessity and heedlessness, 
but he is doubly a thief through infamy, and weak, degrad- 
ing passions. And he will be spurned and branded 
before the whole world as totally bereft of honor.” 

There was but one of those who heard these astound- 
ing and terrifying words who understood them, but he 
was in no condition to bear any longer the old man’s 
glance. He trembled violently while listening to this 
bold and prophetic speech, and when his uncle ceased, he 
struck his riding whip into the empty air, and replied in 
a shrill falsetto : “ This is as good as a play. The 

insane claimant ! Well, I shall make an end of this 
crazy comedy. To-morrow I’ll know how to settle with 
you all !” 

Then he turned and went rapidly from them, with 
quick, resounding footsteps, not like those of a defeated 
man. Soon the darkening night-shadows enveloped his 
tall form. There was nothing in the manner of his 
departure to indicate that Kurt von Hardenegg was bro- 
ken down or humiliated by the accusations which had 
been made against his honor. 

Elfriede leaned against the breast of her newly-returned 
brother, a man now, whom she had last seen as a boy ; 
and her tearful face was pressed against his shoulder. 
Kostomarow turned, leaning heavily upon his cane, and 
came toward the sobbing woman. 

“Do not weep, Frau von Hardenegg,” he said, in a 
gentle, courtly manner, which astonished Ewald more 
than all else which had gone before. “ We all know 
that you are guilty of no wrong, and you need have no 
further fear from the man who has just left us. You 
must accompany your brother to the parsonage. Herr 
Werner and I will seek other quarters for the night. 
You need have no dread of gossip or slander, for I will 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


301 


myself be answerable for your honor ; I, the head of the 
family whose name you bear.” 

Silently they obeyed their senior’s command. They 
all felt that the next day would be a momentous one in 
all their lives. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

With arms hanging listlessly at his side, and head 
sunk low upon his breast, Hardenegg sat at his writing 
table in the luxurious library. He had been rummag- 
ing and racking his brain for hours and all for nought, 
and he felt wearied to death. The world seemed too 
much for him, and a feeling came over him that he must 
escape from it at all hazards, no matter what awaited him 
in the darkness beyond. Before him lay a miniature por- 
trait in an old-fashioned narrow frame. He had stared 
at it for a long time, then thrown it from him, and then, 
forced by an irresistible impulse, had taken it up again 
to stare at it anew. The face was that of a handsome, 
beardless youth — his uncle, Botho von Hardenegg. In 
vain had Hardenegg sought to discover traces of the 
slightest resemblance between this boyish countenance 
and the dark, spectral-looking face of Kostomarow. 

“ It is impossible !” he said, taking up the miniature 
once more. “ He is a fool or an impostor ! There’s 
only one thing to be done with him, either shut him up 
in an insane asylum, or imprison him !” 

But though he repeated this assurance to himself, it 
brought him neither peace nor relief. Even if this 
wretched old man lied knowingly, or if he was the victim 
of an hallucination, and might never succeed in convinc- 


SO 2 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


ing men of the justness of his claims, yet he would still 
ruin the Baron, for Hardenegg realized that he was in 
no position to silence his enemy. His fate was sealed, for 
the whole world would learn that the Castle, the estates, 
in fact all the Hardenegg fortune, were not the posses- 
sions of Baron Kurt von Hardenegg, but of his uncle, 
who had disappeared years before, and who might at 
any moment come again on the scene. Every one 
would turn from him with distrust or contempt, and no 
one would be ready to come forward with the sum that 
was needed to redeem the notes which were in Rhoden’s 
hands. 

What if he should not be able to release them on the 
day they came due ? Only one avenue was open. 
There was but one last expedient. He thought of his 
mother ; she must have a good, round sum at her com- 
mand. Perhaps she would be able to assist him for the 
moment ; but even if she were both able and willing, could 
he demand of her such a sacrifice ? He could not tell 
how all this threatened trouble would end, and it would 
be an added crime to draw so heavily on his mother’s 
private fortune. Nevertheless, his thoughts always 
turned back to this point. Was not his mother answer- 
able for a great part of all that had happened ? Had he 
not to shoulder the crimes of both parents, and walk in 
the path, whether rough or smooth, which they had 
marked out for him ? But above all, his mother was 
wise and energetic. During the lifetime of her husband 
she had warned him day after day of the possibility of 
the absent brother’s return ; perhaps she would be able 
to advise her son, upon whom so much had fallen in a 
single day, and who saw no gleam of light from any 
other quarter. 

Wearily, like an invalid, Kurt rose from the table. 
He could not wait until the following morning ; he did 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


3()3 


not feel strong enough to bear this frightful burden 
alone during the silent watches of the night. He would 
awaken his mother. What did a few hours’ loss of sleep 
signify, when there was so much at stake— honor, yes, 
even life itself. Truly one could not be regardful of 
trifles. 

He crossed the room quietly, but suddenly stood still, 
attracted by the hasty opening and shutting of doors 
in the neighboring apartments, and a second later the 
library door was opened and shut with a click, and his 
mother’s tall figure emerged from behind the portiere. 
She, whom he had believed to be slumbering peacefully, 
had sought him out in the middle of the night, and he 
had only to glance at her face to see that he need 
expect neither advice nor help from her. 

He noted at a glance her state of uncontrollable excite- 
ment. She was fully dressed ; but her attire showed 
great confusion and negligence. Her hair hung in dis- 
order on her forehead and neck, and her face seemed to 
have aged years since the previous night ; her eyes were 
sudken and flickering, and her lips bloodless. 

For a moment mother and son looked atone another 
without speaking ; then he went to her and led her to a 
chair, for he saw how her body trembled, and her knees 
seemed barely able to support their burden. 

“ So you know it already ?” she asked, with a hot 
breath. “Some one has told you that he lives, and is in 
our neighborhood ?” 

Their roles were exchanged. He had hoped to gain 
confidence and get advice from her, but now he must 
quiet her as best he knew how. 

“Compose yourself,” he said. “Only when we lose 
ourselves, is all lost ; and what may not happen when a 
servant’s idle gossip drives you into such a condition ! 
This man is a lunatic or an impostor ! He’ll never sue- 


304 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


ceed in convincing the world and the courts that he is 
Botho von Hardenegg.” 

The Baroness had caught a glimmer of hope as he 
began, but before he finished she was more depressed 
than ever, and a keener anxiety was visible on her pale 
face. 

“ He is no impostor, Kurt ! He is your father’s 
brother ; that is, over and above all, certain !” 

“And how comes it that you are so positive? Have 
you spoken to him ?” 

“ Not I, but one has who knows him well enough ; 
old Heitmann has talked with him.” 

“And he asserts that he recognizes him? Speak, I 
implore you ; tell me all you know ! This is certainly 
no time for half confidences and useless questions.” 

“ Have patience with me, Kurt. It seems to me as if 
my head would burst, or I should lose my senses. It 
was my maid who brought me the news, which she said 
was in every mouth in the Castle. Old Heitmann had 
told them with tears of joy that Baron Botho had 
returned. He had seen him and recognized him last 
evening in the park. I believed as you do, my son. I 
thought that the childish old man had been imposed 
upon by some schemer, and I sent for him to come to 
me at once. But it was no delusion, after all. Old 
Heitmann had never been so clear or positive about 
anything as about this man’s identity. I have also seen 
your uncle, and I not only noted some physical pecu- 
liarities which Heitmann had recognized, but Heitmann 
and he talked over certain matters of which no one 
could have been cognizant but a real Hardenegg. 
Believe me, Kurt, it is he ! You must seek him out, and 
throw yourself at his feet, because our future destiny 
hangs on his favor.” 

The Baron interrupted her with a sneering laugh. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


305 


If that is your last hope, you may bury it. If this 
old man is in truth my Uncle Botho, he will have as 
little sympathy for us as the fox has for the hare, which 
he finally surprises. For years he has not lost sight of 
us , for years he has waited an opportune moment when 
he could annihilate us, could grind us to powder with 
one blow. Under a false guise he has possessed him- 
self of my most dangerous secrets while lulling me to 
sleep in full security ; with the patience of the devil he 
has waited while debt after debt has accumulated, and, 
when at last all avenues of escape for you and me are 
cut off, he springs on us like a cat. And you expect 
sympathy from him? His triumph would be all the 
greater if I pleaded for mercy. No, mother, whatever 
happens, I will never grovel at that man’s feet !” 

The Baroness rose at once. All her old strength and 
decisiveness seemed to have returned. 

“There’s only one salvation for us,” she said. “We 
must fly — this very night !” 

Hardenegg’s lips trembled with a bitter smile. 

“Fly? And where? Is there a place in the whole 
world where one can hide the consciousness of his own 
infamy ?” 

She did not seem to understand his biting answer. 

“It is impossible,” she went on, hastily. “I cannot 
believe that he has deliberately planned our ruin ; but, 
in any event, we ipust checkmate him. We must get off 
unmolested to America, where we will at least be safe 
from his vengeance. You are young enough, Kurt, to 
establish a new home for yourself. The means will not 
be wanting, either, for while I have no great fortune, we 
will not go with empty hands. I have been preparing 
for years for this terrible possibility, and we will at least 
be able to ward off poverty and distress.” 

Hardenegg did not answer. Perhaps he had not even 


306 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


heard her, as she spoke with such renewed energy. He 
stood with his back turned to her, gazing at his uncle’s 
portrait lying on the table before him. His face had a 
hard, uncomfortable expression, and the lines in his 
forehead looked as though they had been made with a 
chisel. 

His mother laid her hand on his shoulder. 

“ Why do you not answer me, Kurt ? Do you not 
think it best to fly from all this frightful uncertainty 
without delay ?’* 

He turned and looked at her with a glance which she 
thought almost treacherous. 

“ Yes, I think with you it will be best to fly from all 
this uncertainty. You are right, mother, and in this 
very night the flight must be accomplished.” 

“You must make some excuse to the servants for our 
sudden journey, when you order the carriage. They 
won’t believe you, will doubtless surmise the whole 
thing, but that need not trouble us ; we shall never 
see them again. But hurry ; for no time is to be lost. 
The express will be here in two hours. If we can 
catch it we are saved. I have but few preparations to 
make, and can be ready in half an hour. My maid is 
true and to be depended upon. She will accompany us, 
at least part of the way, and we will, of course, take no 
other servant with us. I will hurry and dress myself, 
and you make what arrangements are necessary ; for 
you know, my son, any negligence now will cost us 
dear. When I return I trust you will be all ready.” 

With excessive haste, in order to conceal her great 
anxiety, the Baroness had spoken to her listening son, 
and he had nodded once or twice, as if to show his 
approval of her plans. Now he accompanied her to the 
door. 

“ Farewell for awhile, my poor, dear son,” she said, 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


307 


embracing him. “I hope we shall be able to conquer 
all our difficulties !” 

“ 1 hope so, also,” he answered, in a toneless voice. 
“ Farewell, farewell !” 

He held the hangings back until her steps died away, 
then he let them fall heavily and returned to his table. 
But he struck no bell in order to summon a servant and 
give the orders which his mother had wished. To all 
appearances he had nothing to do which required haste. 
He paced the room a few times wdth his hands locked 
behind him. Then he sat down to his writing-table and 
wrote a short note, which he read over before address- 
ing it, to Baron Rhoden. This was how the letter 
ran : 

“ You have lost your money, my poor Hartmuth, for 
I have become bankrupt — bankrupt in honor as well as 
cash. That I have absolutely nothing, you will believe 
without my assurance, for of what I leave behind, there 
will — alas ! be nothing to satisfy your claims. This 
estate was never rightfully mine. Look to it, what 
terms you can make with the rightful possessor, and if 
your grudge grows deeper, you can send a few curses 
after me. I think they will make my future neither 
better or worse. 

Hardenegg.” 

When he had sealed this note, he opened the secret 
drawer in which his revolver lay. He was ready for 
flight before the half hour was up, and he had the 
advantage of his mother in going to a country which no 
earthly prosecution could reach. The Baron pushed 
his easy chair back a little with his foot ; then he bent 
forward slightly and brought the muzzle of the revolver 
close to his right temple— without touching it with the 


308 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


cold steel, and then laid his first finger on the trigger. 
Half a second longer — and then a short, sharp sound 
vibrated through the room, followed immediately by a 
heavy rumble as the weapon and victim fell with a dull 
thud to the floor. 

The porcelain edge on the cornice of the wainscotting 
rattled softly, and a great beetle, startled from its quiet, 
flew hither and thither, anxious to find some mode of 
egress from the powder-smoke which filled the air. 

But the dwellers within Castle Buchwald had heard 
no sound. 

* * * * * * * 

A half hour later the dowager Baroness returned to 
her son. Her attire was as elegant and faultless as in 
the days of her prosperity, and her silver hair was 
arranged smoothly and becomingly over her temples. 
She pulled the portieres back hastily, hoping to find 
Kurt awaiting her in traveling costume. 

She saw him stretched out in front of his writing-table, 
with face turned upwards ; she saw the glittering wea- 
pon, which had slipped from his right hand, and the 
glassy, staring eyes, which seemed to be seeking her own. 
Her hands reached out for support into the empty air, 
and without a cry of terror ora despairing moan, she 
sank unconscious to the floor. 

So she was found by her maid an hour later, and that 
woman’s piercing shrieks soon brought every inmate of 
the Castle to the fatal room. 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


309 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

The tragedy of Buchwald created a great stir in the 
social world ; but only a very few were cognizant of the 
causes which had led to it. People whispered to one 
another that there was a mystery somewhere ; but the 
whole affair soon became a thing of the past, as other 
tragedies, with their complementary comedies, engaged 
society’s attention. 

Botho von Hardenegg knew that the dark family 
secrets would never go beyond a very narrow circle. 
He did all he could to shield Elfriede from any unfa- 
vorable comments which might be made. 

The communication which he had made to his nephew 
in the old artist city over four years ago, had been in 
all particulars accurate ; but there were many impor- 
tant circumstances connected with his life in Russia 
which he had not thought it advisable to relate. And 
one of the most important was the fact that just before 
his arrest in St. Petersburg as a political intriguant, he 
had left his valuable papers and documents, together 
with a large sum of gold and his treasured Cremona, in 
the hands of a reliable friend, from whom he obtained 
them again after his successful escape from the mines. 
These documents contained indisputable proofs that he 
was a German and the Baron Botho von Hardenegg, and 
were absolutely convincing when supplemented by the , 
official records at St. Petersburg ; and no one had a right 
to ask why he now brought them forward for the first 
time. 

The judges of the Probate Court were of opinion that 
he had never heard that the Czar had long since par- 


310 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


doned his alleged offence, and had kept himself con- 
cealed fearing that the Russian government would 
demand his surrender ; and Kostomarow saw no reason 
for disturbing their conclusion. 

He entered upon his inheritance, but his conduct 
showed that as far as he was personally concerned it 
was a worthless possession. 

When at the funeral of Kurt von Hardenegg, a 
representative of the old, hereditary nobility of the 
province advanced to the open grave and solemnly broke 
in pieces the escutcheon of the Hardenegg’s and threw 
the fragments down upon the coffin, in token that the 
last of the race was there laid to rest, Kostomarow had 
offered no objection ; so now he made no effort to revive 
the family name. 

He did not take possession of Castle Buchwald, whose 
only occupants were the servants and overseers and the 
poor mother who lay for several weeks very ill, and he 
forbade any one calling him by his right name. 

Elfriede and Marguerite had established themselves 
in their old home under the protection of their brother 
Ewald. Kostomarow still lived in his modest quarters 
at the parsonage, and was often seen in friendly converse 
with his once bitter enemy, Balthasar Stiller, who now 
looked upon him with reverence as the benefactor of 
his distinguished son. But joy over his son’s return 
could not make the old painter quit his cosy retreat at 
the forestry. He felt the inspiration of his surround- 
ings in his forest home, and already addressed the happy 
Reinach on all occasions as “ dear son-in-law.” 

Kostomarow seemed to have much to do in the neigh- 
borhood, but especially at the Great House at Lankenau. 
As he walked through Count Bassewitz’s park, after 
leaving his little basket phaeton, a lovely young maiden 
would come to meet him, and her face would beam with 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


311 


youthful joy and happiness as she hung on the arm of 
the lame old man. Without shyness or embarrassment, 
but with a charmingly roguish look, she would peer 
with her dark eyes into the wrinkled face, when he 
would say in his usual harsh voice : “ Will not the 

little Countess be afraid of such a terrible looking 
father-in-law?” She would shake her beautiful head 
and answer, laughing : “ If he had two horns and a 

cloven foot, I should love him with my whole heart, 
just the same.” 

She had good reason to do so. Soon enough her own 
and Ewald’s secret was known. Count Bassewitz’s 
opposition to his daughter’s betrothal to the young 
violinist was both obstinate and earnest ; but Kosto- 
marow knew what means to use to conquer him. Per- 
haps the lovers’ unwavering constancy had something 
to do with it. Perhaps it was the intimation conveyed 
by Kostomarow to the Count that he would give Ewald 
a considerable fortune at once, and at his death make 
the young man heir to the Hardenegg estate. Ewald 
was not informed of his benefactor’s intentions, but the 
Count obtained a written guarantee. 

At the beginning of winter the Baroness von Har- 
denegg left Castle Buchwald for a second time. Her 
hair was snow-white, and her bearing was that of a 
broken-hearted old woman. She took a silent farewell 
of the tomb of her only son in the Hardenegg vaults 
the day she left. Only her maid accompanied her. 
Kostomarow allowed her a liberal income from his 
estates during the remainder of her life-time, which 
she spent under the blue skies of Italy. 

* ****** * 

When the long, hard winter was again past, and the 
flowers were blooming in all their gorgeous spring 


312 


THE BKEACII OF CUSTOM. 


colors in the valley of Buchwald, there sounded forth 
one day from the bell-tower of the village church at 
Frauensee a merry chime. The little church could not 
contain the guests who came from far and near. Bal- 
thasar Stiller sat in the front pew beneath the altar 
between the Count von Bassewitz and Kostomarow. 
The tears were coursing down the old painter’s face, 
though he hardly seemed conscious of them ; but they 
were tears of deepest joy, for to-day he was to witness 
the marriage of his son Ewald with the Countess Hertha 
von Bassewitz, and of his daughter Marguerite to the 
King’s head-forester, Reinach, the man who had saved 
his life, and — what he esteemed much more valuable — 
had redeemed his artist’s name. 

Pastor Werner performed the two ceremonies. His 
words were as earnest and his manner as impressive as 
ever, and when the services were ended, Ewald held his 
friend in a long and fervent embrace. 

Then the wedding train was set in motion, not toward 
deserted Buchwald, but toward the Great House at 
Lankenau. The carriages moved but slowly, for the vil- 
lage children strewed fir branches in the way, and fairly 
covered the newly married couples with the delicate 
wild flowers of the valley. The lads shouted and threw 
their little caps in the air, while the wives and maidens 
waved their handkerchiefs ; it was a long day of jubi- 
lee to the villagers, such as they had never before seen 
at Frauensee. 

While the revellers were still seated round the gaily 
decorated and glistening tables at Lankenau, and the 
mirth of the wedding feast was at its highest, two of the 
guests slipped away from the brilliant company and 
strolled out side by side beneath the spreading branches 
of the tall park trees. A man and woman, still in the 
bloom of youth, but in whose serious, thoughtful faces 


THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. 


313 


was throned the earnestness which tells of life's storms 
prematurely encountered and of life’s trials overcome. 
They had much to say to one another, but the words 
came hesitatingly to their lips. 

At last Werner took his companion’s hand in his own, 
as he said in a low, tender tone : 

“ The house which I have made ready for my wife is 
yet vacant ; it is but a poor, modest home. Elfriede, my 
dear Elfriede, can you yet decide to share it with me?” 

She raised her lovely eyes to his face with an expres- 
sion of deep affection, as she answered, softly : 

“ My heart belongs to you, John, to-day and always. 
But we have waited so long now, that we can afford to 
be patient a little longer. When time has cast its sub- 
duing shadow upon the horrors of the past, and that 
fearful experience is no longer an ever-present dream, I 
will come to you joyfully, and lay my hand in yours 
trustfully and devotedly, for all future time.” 

And, turning, she led the way silently through the 
evening twilight, back to the house of gladness and 
mirth. 


THE END. 


AN AMERICAN NOVEL 


Parted By Fate; 

OR, 

The Mystery of Black-Tor Lighthouse. 

By LAURA JEAN LIBBEY, 

Author of “ lone,” ** A Mad Betrothal etc., etc. 

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REUNITED 


A STORY OF THE CIVIL WAR. 

BY A POPULAR SOUTHERN AUTHOR. 


Illustrated by F. A. Carter. 


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LILITH 


A Sequel to “The Unloved Wife.” 

By MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH. 


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MRS. HAROLD STAGG 


A NOVEL. 


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Robert Grant, 

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By MRS. HARRIET LEWIS. 

With Seven Illustrations.. 


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